To spread his light
by Simpli
Summary: "No army is big enough to conquer the galaxy. But faith alone can overturn the universe", Missionaries are skilled in oration, manipulation, and subtly changing a culture to bring it into line with the Imperial Cult, replacing the gods of the existing pantheon with Imperial Saints, they are also often skilled warriors not above the use of brute force.
1. The Incident

_This ends the STG report of the artificial construction regarding structures similar to Mass relays, further notices about the __**incident**__ can be read in the notes under …_

Looking up from her Omni-tool councillor Tevos send her fellow councillors a credulous look, before looking down at the documents and footages before her again, skimming through the headlines of the joined Turian and Salarian project before closing them with a weary sigh.

A awkward silence descended over the meeting chamber of the three most influential in the known galaxy, sitting in the, most likely, most secure and comfy room in the whole citadel.

"Just what…did you think you were doing?",

The Asari matriarch finally asks with a small glare directed at her colleagues who shift uneasily in their seats, knowing full well that their little project was now busted and known to the Asari who normally prided themselves being the most progressed race in the mastery of Element Zero, who were now, no doubt in this case, interested in the possibility of an own analogue to the mass relay network…just the idea which the other two big races seemed to have tried building behind their blue backs.

"It was the idea to utili-" Valern started to explain in rapidly as his Turian counterpart cut him off: "It was an investment of the Turian Hierarchy within the scope of our peace keeping missions, an own relay network could be a deciding edge against any-"

Sparatus didn't get much further himself as a slowly enraged Tevos hit her fist on the table, for once discarding her diplomatic persona as she glared at both of her colleagues:

"You two….this…this….investment!", she spit the word like a curse as she pointed at the reports "destroyed a whole planet just as you first tried to-"

"It was only a dead moon-" The Salarian tried to interject helpfully only to be silenced by a cold glare cold as meteoroid ice from Tevos as she stared him down and repeated in a tone bare of any emotion "…only a dead moon?"

Using this moment to try and calm her down Sparatus quickly tried to shift her attention away "No one was killed or wounded one way or another, all 215 scientists and other personal were able to evacuate the station before our prototype relay collapsed, if you might read the additions to the official report you might see there were even 218 lives rescued from the station, you can't say anyone came to harm."

Listening to the Turian Councillor Tevos slumped into her chair closing her eyes and trying to fight against the tiredness that seemed to have grabbed her, before responding more controlled: "You two…it was already bad enough that the Geth were able to attack the Citadel itself with a new super dreadnought and that we three are only still alive thanks to Shepard and her call for help, which made a System Alliance fleet appear just in time. Now we might even need to give the humans an own seat as…wait" Stopping midway in her sentence Tevos looked back at Sparatus in mild puzzlement

"218 of 215 left the station before its destruction?"

"Yes! Very interesting, were able to pull three individuals through the relay into the station. Appear to be human, talked strange dialect, were obviously not very fazed by their means of transport they are-" "Humans with the attitude of Hanar", Sparatus finished his excited colleagues with his mandibles twitching irritated, "They are just even more primitive than the system alliance, all three of them seem to carry swords of all things" Shaking his hand dismissingly he turned back to the reports of the damages wrought by the battle of the citadel,

"I'm sure we have other worries, the council shouldn't bother itself with some unsuccessful project, we promise..". at this words he tried to make eye contact with Tevos and gave her a small nod "…that the Hierarchy and the Salarian Union will stop working on this and any related projects while….just while the public still needs to calm down, is that acceptable Tevos?", he asked accompanied by a rather reluctant nods of Valern who showed the obvious reluctance of the Salarian to postpone such a fascinating idea,

Her eyes wandering back towards the reports describing the rebuilding progress in the wards who took the most damage against Saren and his Geth, she nodded sharply at the offer

"That's…reasonable, maybe when the time is right a few Asari scientist could help us accomplish an own network even faster, but still…what's with these three humans the prototype brought into the station?"

Scoffing Sparatus shook his exoskeleton clad head, with an aura of assured superiority in his next words:

"Just primitives, trying to spread their religion from what we have found out, following their deity and wanting to make other people belief in him too….as you can see, not much different from the Hanar, most likely they are just humans from some backwater colony in the Terminus with a delusion of grandeur."

Nodding to herself more than to the other Tevos give both of them a small smile before nodding towards her door, sighing as they finally left and she had her room just for herself.

Curiously she reached down and opened a small video of one of this "Hanar like" humans to look for herself, a small smile tugging on her lips as the video showed the most likely leader of the three person group, all three seeming to be normal human women…if you didn't mind their particular clothing style. A small giggles only barely escaped from Tevos lips as she continued watching a small clip of the group leader, not possible any older than twenty or a bit more, holding her hand firmly around the hilt of a great bulky sword of all things before opening her mouth and talking in an language totally unknown to Tevos or her Translator:

**"I'm Flavia Sophana, Missionary of the Missionarus Galaxia. Greetings in the name of the God-Emperor of Mankind."**

After saying this obvious introduction or greeting the women smiled with genuine warmth, as far as Tevos could guess, which was quite something with her status and age as matriarch, before she bowed down for a moment, interlocking her hands and forming some sort of sighn with her open hands and thumbs, shaking her head slightly before recalling Sparatus words "Humans with the attitude of Hanar", Tevos smiled to herself as she put this report away and closed her eyes to finally get some rest: "they are only preachers, let them go around and talk to people…what could be the worst that happens?"

**"...and the Emperor protects"**


	2. Just Human Hanars?

**Chapter 2**

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><p>The mass relay to the citadel flared up with life and a stealth ship of the STG moved uncontested towards the centre of the galaxy, carrying with it guests who some might want to forget just to hide their failure, while the council itself has deemed them important enough to give a small and private hearing, just to get them of the table and deal with the backslash of the battle which not only showed how vulnerable the citadel was to a invasion attempt, but also the shifting of powers as humanities new councillor Anderson was needed to be integrated into the existing council.<p>

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><p>Leaning against the wall of their shared cabin Flavia Sophana, Member of the Missionarus Galaxia, looked at one of the Xenos holograms, which were mounted at the walls and showing the space station….citadel. Shaking her head in minor amusement, not only at the misplaced proud the bird and frog like Xeno seemed to have at every mention of this station, at least as far as sister Marina could translate so far…and if sister Marina was translating it for her, she could at least be sure to get the best possible translation.<p>

Shaking her head slightly below the heavy white hood which was part of her robes, the missionary leaned back into the nearly decadently cushioned seats of the cabin and closed her eyes wearily, as she just now doubted her idea to appease the Xenos for now…

**"Anything new regarding the low gothic dialect they are using to talk to us, Sister Marina?"**

The missionary asked with still closed eyes, as she let her thoughts wander back to the last mission they accomplished before the…incident that stranded them with these strangely…peaceful? Slightly she shook her head, Curious….yes, that was better fitting, curious Xeno, especially the amphibian like, frail looking ones.

**"The dialect…**English.**.. as they call it, seems to be related to at least 34 other low gothic dialects, either through their grammatical structure or certain word and syllables combinations, so far I'm presuming it to be a human language Missionary."**,

The reply of the black haired Adeptus Sororitas snapped Flavia out of her musing, as her eyes focused on the source of the voice, nodding ever so slightly towards the red and white robed Sister, who had covered her part of the cabin with numerous scrolls and ink, as well as a few data pads for cross referencing the dialect. Looking back at the hologram, she was once again slightly amazed…and appealed at the clearness of the picture, that the Xenos can have such a superior technology so openly displayed and from what she has seen so widely used in the everyday life made her… uneasy, but then something came into the view and she had to keep back a smile as her eyes trailed over the it, her hearth filling with faith at the view.

**"Sister Marina, you should take a look at this, the Emperor might have given us a sign."**

Forming the sign of the Aquilla with her interlocked thumbs the Missionary send a thankful prayer to the Master of Mankind as their transport passed a large field of debris. It wasn't that large, barely a skirmish or border incident in Imperial standards but what made her hope flare up once again where the letters not only on the debris but also on the still intact vessels, moving through the field, the closest reading "SSV Cairo" in clear gothic letters on its hull.

Only at her second glance she scowled slightly, flimsy, no other word came to her mind as quickly as she looked at the small size of all the, hopefully, human vessels, most of them not even coming close to the size of a Cobra Class Destroyer of the Imperial Navy, and not one of them surpassing Frigate size. As far as she could see none of them had to unmistakable silhouette of an Imperial warship, with growing unrest she could even make out that a lot of ships she mistook for being most likely human as well were bearing other symbols and letters, identifying them as Xeno crafts with an eerie similarity to the human vessels.

Drumming her fingertips over the polished leather of her prayer book the missionary gave the Sister a small smile:

**"Service for the Emperor never seems to end…if there are humans…they might be part of these Xeno empires at worst and at best they are using the same Xeno tech as them, risking the damnation of their souls to it."**

After seeing Sister Marina give her a small nod Flavia turned back to the screen concentrating her attention on the Xenos seat of government, the station in the shape of a Pentagram and five arms, the whole construction turning around an central axis…most likely to gain artificial gravity. In a way it pleased the missionary greatly that even this resourceful Xenos, similar to them only seemed the rumoured Tau at the fringe of the Imperium, wasting technological luxuries on everyday things were still not able to build something coming even close to the holy glory of the Imperial ship yards and the great space stations she had visited on her travels on whatever ship she was assigned to accompany on its travels to the unexplored regions.

Wistfully she looked over to Sister Marina and then back towards the door of the cabin, next to which the oldest member of the trio was leaning against the wall, her lips not stopping a moment as she recited one litany of protection after another, her voice being as calm and silent as the faint noises of the ships engines. The former Adeptus of an Order Militant was slowly coming close to the end of the second century of her service to the God-Emperor and was given to the missionary to assist her in the spread of the Imperial Cult.

Sister Marie, formerly of the Order of Our Martyred Lady, was chosen for position in the Ecclesiarchys efforts to spread the His light thanks to her unwavering piety and her experience, having battled the forces of Chaos at multiple decision, coming close to Heresy and the Archenemy every time without faltering, her faith to the Emperor only growing at each occasion. Today her recitation wasn't the usual daily prayer, but a shield against the disgust she felt from using the vile xeno tech projection on her arm to gain access to the database they called Extranet, while her other hand was stuck in a smelling black glove to use the hologram interface as pictures, one more revolting than the last seemed to play out before her, showing her teeming cities full of different xeno species mingling with one another, disgusting beings resembling mutants of a human women with tentacles instead of hair and blue skin sauntered over the streets off pictures smiling a Emperor damned human smile at her as her hands clenched into fists and she quickly changed the picture with a swift movement of her hand, showing a more familiar view: hundreds of the bird like Xenos marching in perfect cadence with their weapons presented and row after row of tanks following the precisely marching infantry. To a degree it was strangely soothing after the blue ones to see that Xenos still remained Xenos, rivals to humanities divine right to rule the stars. Flipping further trough what seemed to be titled "First contact package", a small amused snort escaped the ex-Seraphim and from the corner of her eye she could see the missionary sending her a equally amused looks as she read the title, as every servant of the God-Emperor knows there is only one package for a first contact, mostly containing an abundance of His holy ordinance dropped on whatever xeno species dared to raise its miserable head from their backwater planet.

But then all three Imperials gasped as the pictures changed once again, showing a brightly glowing sun illuminating a single solar system, the shadow of a human couple in the background. Not any but The solar system, as in the cradle of humanity, with the red dusty surface of Mars home to the Mechanicus Cult, the outmost Pluto with its shipyards and…they breath stopped collectively once again as they stared at a pristine garden world, the view dominated by the blue colour of oceans and the green of forests, with city lights only taking parts…and not all of the surface for themselves.

Even with being the eldest Sister Marie could hardly hide her bewilderment at the view, a quick glance would have showed everyone that Sister Marina was hardly taking it better both of them staring at the picture for what could amount a small eternity from their perspective, before they turned towards the Missionary again who had token it in stride and smiled slightly at their looks searching for guidance, raises her hands softly she tried to calm them down:

**"You shouldn't be worrying about this system too much Sisters, it could just be a coincidence a system looking this awfully familiar to the Holy Sol system and…"**,

Waiting for a moment as the names of each celestial body in the system was getting labelled in low gothic on the screen, not even waiting for Sister Marinas translation of each name into the fitting High Gothic names, Flavia shock her head and stared both of Sisters down, her voice bearing a tone of finality:

**"Heresy grows from idleness, we were send out in the galaxy with the prospect of never returning to the Imperium in our lifetime, travelling from one lost human civilization to another, no matter if they were even barely feudal or still stuck feral, it's our sacred duty to spread the Emperors word, saving as many human souls as possible from Damnation and expanding the Imperium without the great waste of defenders subjugating them might cost. When we left Tanivaz II, we left through the teleporter, giving these spear wielding tribesman a glimpse at the might of the Imperium, we were ready to never return to the world and let another Missionary finish spreading the faith in a hundred or even two hundred years, what has changed from us falling through the warp into these xenos hands? It shouldn't matter to us if this system-"**

She paused and gestured at the hologram which seemed to hover in the middle of the room, captivating all attention before the missionary shook her head and reached down turning it off and as the orange lights of the Omni-tool died down, leaving both Sisters concentrating on the Missionaries face, which shone in a deep red as in place of her left eye a glowing red light seemed to intensify like a burning torch, her whole appearance shifted into the fiery orator she could be before the faithful in a cathedral or the heathens which she proselytized under the clear sky of any world His will send her too.

**"…if this system and its planets are just named in honour of the old home world the humans in this part of the Galaxy could have forgotten long since the Age of Strife, or if this system truly is Holy Terra? In which case we are lost not in space but in time, as their seems no indication of the Imperial Palace and Oceans and Trees were lost on Terra long ago in the Dark Ages anyway. But why should this matter to us? It doesn't matter if we are lost in time or in space, our purpose is clear, our duty is sacred, we are to spread the five Truths of the Imperial Creed, they are the only chance for humanities continued survival and no matter where we are right now the humans will hear and believe, or we will make them!"**

Taking a deep breath she looked heavily at each Sister who only nodded and fell to their knees praying softly to the Emperor, asking for His guiding hand to let us spread His light even in this forsaken sector:

**"For the Emperor has once walked among men, but He is, and always has been, a god.**

**The Emperor is the only true god, regardless of what past faiths any human may have worshipped.**

**To purge the heretic, beware the psyker and mutant, and abhor the alien."**

As the missionaries voice continued to grow loader slowly reaching to peak of the small sudden preachment, Sister Maries hand strayed to her hips, gripping the familiar handle of her pistol as she remembered the glorious Purges she was once part of, before joining Sister Marinas in silent devotion, as the cores of the Imperial Faith seemed to Echo in the closed cabin like thunder.

**"Every human being has a place within the Emperor's divine order.**

**And every humans duty is to unquestionably obey the authority of the Imperial government and one's superiors.**

**We do not have to fear and shrink away from our holy duty:**

**Men united in the purpose of the Emperor are blessed in his sight and shall live forever in his memory."**

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><p><span><strong>For the Readers:<strong>

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><p><em>First of all: Thank all of you for your comments, I really enjoyed reading them and I hope my try for a second chapter is enjoyable for you readers, I'm still building up and there will be more chapters portraying each of the three Imperial characters more in depth and from an outside view as well.<em>

_ Nagashazzier: Thank you, I'll try to keep up with the expectations_

_ Cegorach: I'll look into asking someone, and I'm sorry if it seems shoddy to you _

_ Kamzil118: Thank you too and seems like your wish got fullfilled, Marina and Marie are both from the Adepa Sorotias, but I will let you guess of which Orders for now _

_ Jougaint: A good question and it will play a part in the thing to come...but thats still long way in the story timeline_

_ Skepsis Forever: Too true, because of this, and evading one of the fics making the Imperium stomp over everything I will keep with these three actors as only Imperials, but a Chaos Incursion or two might follow in the future. As why they haven't reduced the Xeno to stains on the floor? They are Missionaries who often end up on Explorator ships were the most free minded and independent Elements of the Imperium end up, and the use of an low Gothic Dialect reminds them of their Mandate_

_ AncientRaig: Hope the chapter gave you a small teaser to your hopes and dont forget: The Ecclesiarchy is hoarding rare trinkets for their confessors~_

_ originalname412: Then I hope to please_

_ Doc4: How true, with the Council being mostly otherwise occupied they might come to regret it in the future...heavily. But you might look forward to some more "You see what you want to see" scenes from the ever optimistic Asari and the descending Turian who got better things to do that looking at sword wielding savages who are only armed with pistols...which might later on make some Salarians sell their souls for. But right now it still is a bit early for a war of faith_


	3. The Tools of our Salvation

**Chapter 3**

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><p>C-Sec officer Lenostia D'roneus sprinted through the presidium as she cursed the lack of personnel C-Sec was currently facing, evading a Volus who was idling on a green area between her and the lift only barely her feet carried her quickly down the stairs and through the passers-by, who were following their usual business, only the lesser density of the traffic around her was indicating any consequences from the battle for the citadel.<p>

"Officer D'roneus, where are you going? The VIPs have already arrived and are boarding their-"

Lenostia ignored the rest of her Turian colleague's impatient ranting as she jumped over a railing and hit green grass under her feet one floor below gracefully, before resuming her run through the Presidium, finally spotting a skycar with a small group of Turians from the Special response team. Their military armament, in bygone days a view as rare as an Asari maiden doing something productive on the citadel, was not that unusual if you look at the witch hunt for Geth infiltrators which was kicked loose since the battle.

Fighting down a smile Officer D'roneus could see just how much trouble the armament was now giving them as the inbuilt safeties of the X3M skycar made its doors close whenever one of the Turians tried to enter and a bright red warning flashed up followed by the threat that an automatic message was sent to warn C-Sec.

Taking a small calming breath she walked towards the car calmly trying to suppress any sign of amusement as she saw the mandibles of the Turian Officer, a new one just like her, used to fill in the holes still left in C-Sec before the humans as the newest council race would fill in the rest of the posts in the Divisions.

Hearing her steps the Turian turned around and gave her a cold glare as if she was the cause for all misery which has befallen him…ever.

"It seems you have deemed to finally grace us with your presence officer Lenostia. As we are experiencing….technical troubles thanks to an oversight in preparation for this visit our guests have asked for a guide to show one of them around the citadel."

His voice was not only full of sarcasm pointed at her but with resentment and venom aimed at the car, the general situation and to a degree with pointed glares at the three mysterious visitors. Following his gaze Lenostia took the first chance to look at the three humans, whose relaxed posture was quite the contrast to the rigidity of the Turians around them.

Standing in the middle was what must be a human female; the Asari could only conclude this from the faint body contours she could make out underneath the long robe dyed in a light bone colour of white. As she tried to take in the rest of the woman, Lenostia found herself unable to tear her eyes off the person again, her eyes wandering upwards and taking in each sight with the same inevitability with which others would stare at a car crash.

It started relatively normal; around the woman's waist was a heavy leather belt, not one of the stylish thin and elegant sort but a broad and hard one, gilded with golden motifs all along its length, the heavy metal buckle ornamented with a two headed bird of prey in massive gold as farfetched as that seemed, one of its eyes seemingly scratched out.

Hanging on the left hip was a thick honest to the goddess paper book, its cover also made from leather again and bearing the same bird icon again, while the handle of a sword of all things was peaking out from behind the other hip, making the officer feel like she was in a bad holo movie. The impression got only worse as she saw the massive trinket acting as some sort of oversized necklace, with the same two headed bird of prey again made of…no…most likely only gilded, she thought, not believing that someone might run around with a massive gold trinket as big as her two hands openly and with….is that a jewel instead of an eye?

The astonishment at so much gold in one place didn't seem to stop as Lenostia saw a cloth, some sort of stole slung around the woman's neck with two stylised roman Is on each end, each pendant of the stole the size of her palm and with the embedded motif of a human skull.

Blanching slightly at the morbid and garish decoration of the otherwise fairly plain white robe, she found herself finally staring into the hooded face of the woman, her features hidden in the shadows and only a smouldering red light peering out of the obscured darkness where her left eye should have been.

Puzzled the Asari officer had to watch the spooky figure gaze at her from unseen eyes, the red light slowly starting to unnerve her as a small chuckle flew from the human's lips as she turned towards her companion on the left.

"If these xenos get filled with fear only by peering at His holy servants then it might seem like we won't need that long to enforce humanities dominance and send them back into dust."

Surprised Lenostia had heard…nothing in fact, no handy translation fed through her translator, not even a familiar word or two she knew from the other humans in C-Sec, just a strange, hard to describe language with some sounds strangely familiar while others seemed totally foreign to any known language she knows of, as she wondered if her translator might be broken her eyes slipped towards the black haired woman who was spoken to.

Immediately the Asari's eyes widened and she froze in sheer terror as she peered into dark unflinching eyes in a face of sharp features, framed by shoulder length black hair, as the floor under her feet seemed to disappear and she found herself back in the classroom on Thessia wriggling under the merciless glare of her history teacher having to compare the small wars of the Asari to human and turian histories…

While the Turians seemed to ignore her and the group of robed strangers, Lenostia found a petite hand touching her shoulder and she finally tore herself from remembering this devil in Asari guise to turn towards the owner of these hands only to blush softly as she found herself face to face with one of the most beautiful humans she had ever seen.

A young and innocent woman looked at her with an innocent smile, white hair framing her face in a serene manner, only a black tattoo under her right eye blemishing spotless fair skin, making the officer's heart beat faster for a moment before she stumbles backwards her old grace lost for a moment, as the woman…girl smiled at her.

"You…guide …for me? Me Marie"

The angelic appearance in front of her asked in stumbling insecure English, her hands locked together nervously over her black robe with white accents, being far more elegant and close….Lenostia blinked, it was from an Asari shop, only spotting the silver bird of prey necklace around the girl's neck made the Asari connect her with the two more strange humans she just looked at, nodding slightly she tried to reply slowly:

"Yes, I'm C-Sec officer Lenostia D'roneus, from the Enforcement Division."

Smiling Sister Marie nodded towards the C-Sec officer and pointed towards the big lake in the presidium, and then gestured around.

"There first?...other later?"

Officer D'roneus could only nod before watching the young woman stride towards the lake leaving her behind dumbly for a moment before snapping out of her daze, induced through too many clashing impressions burying her at once and running after her charge.

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><p>Sister Marina had watched the exchanged with barely concealed disgust her hand still clenching around the metal of her staff as she watched the Alien follow Marie in a mockery of human movement and grace.<p>

"The God-Emperor must be with Sister Marie….I can't imagine myself acting through something so…so….repulsive! As touching a xeno in a "friendly" way….these blue witches…they are no better than the hideous genestealers, trying to infiltrate mankind through their reproduction and offspring, they seem to subjugate all species through this!"

Taking a moment to look at their escort and noting them only giving Sister Marina small glances at her burst, she reached out and touched the Adeptus Sororitas lightly on the shoulder

"Sister Marie's devotion is admirable, you should know that she has remained for more than twenty years on Tanivaz II, all the local tribal chieftains who threw themselves down before our shuttle were blessed, to a large part raised and even married off by the machinations of this one Sister, you should keep in mind to never underestimate the Orders Sabine in your work Sister Marina, their work is the foundation on which the Missionarus Galaxia treads. Let the xenos think of her as the most innocent and harmless of us, none of the Emperor's enemies survives underestimating a Seraphim lightly. But still…I find myself quite curious as of why the xeno was staring at you with the same look others usually reserve for the drill Abbots after having the schola progenium for years."

"We care not what the alien thinks, that we simply hate suffices."

"Zeal is no excuse, only work earns salvation. You should better remember I am a missionary of the God-Emperor, my work is clear, the path in front of us and my authority over you is unquestionable."

Flavia replied with steel in her voice as she turned her head lightly to stare at the Sister, until she bowed her head slightly in submission and grew silent.

Frowning slightly under her hood the missionary turned back towards the xenos who seemed to have finally gotten their soulless machine ready for further transport again.

Doubt often leads to heresy, but from a Sister Dialogous? That could lead to trouble, she hasn't seen as much of the missionary's work as of yet, not comparable to Flavia herself or even Sister Marie who was part of the Orders Sabine since more than sixty years.

Nearly absently following the xenos gestures and Sister Marina's translations, Missionary Sophana allowed herself to close her eye wearily for a moment, letting a small sigh escape her as she contemplated the further course of action, she stared out of the car's window as it slowly rose from the ground before starting to move towards the meeting point with one of the xeno Councillors who seemed to reign above this Sector.

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><p>"So what's that?"<p>

Following Marie's pointed finger Lenostia tensed slightly in embarrassment as she saw the Volus she nearly ran over before, sitting on the grass in his heavy environment suit.

Having quickly noticed that her charge had a better grip at understanding English than speaking it she launched into a short explanation.

"He," stressing the word slightly, "is a Volus; they are from the planet Irune, which is supporting an ammonia based ecology. Because of this and the higher gravity on their home world, they need to wear these suits all time in environments more suited for us."

"So…they….stink?...and are small and round?"

Came the soft reply with a curious look at said ammonia balloon, making the officer continue with a smile while Sister Marie scoffed slightly at how easy the xeno was to manipulate.

"Of course not!" the asari replied with a small smile, truly enjoying the presence of the bright girl, her two elder companions seemed for more brooding and dark,

"The Volus are the citadel's foremost financial experts in citadel space, while they are a client race of the Turians, they are widely respected for creating the galactic currency and for their business sense, making them vital for the growth of the economy in the citadel."

"Client Race?" Sister Marie probed the xeno, wondering herself why a race which seemed to hold so much esteem was a Client race…of course it could be because the Turians, from what she had seen before were far more militarized, but couldn't they just buy mercenaries?

"Ohh yes, the Vol Protectorate is a Client of the Turian Hierarchy, as the Volus aren't really cut out for combat or even a light bar fight, so they rely on the Turian military to defend them in ground based operations, they do have a military but tend to focus more on their fleet assets."

Nodding to herself Sister Marie made a small note in her mind: 'volus and turians are close to one another and rely on each other's help, breaking one of them would cripple the other's capabilities and even the whole of the vile xeno conglomerate and the cleansing of the planet Irune would doom the ammonia xenos as a whole, who are reliant on the planets special ecology.'

Smiling to herself at the thoughtful expression the young VIP had, Lenostia continued the tour pointing out some restaurants and meeting points for the rich and influential who visited the Presidium, noting with mirth the wide eyes the easily impressed woman seemed to have for everything around her, but of course it was typical for there is nothing more spacious and grand than the citadel itself.

'It's a big toy…and these xenos are so proud of it and why, because they found it first? The foolishness of mankind's enemies knows no bounds, but their hubris will work to our benefit in the end, no one can oppose the Emperor's will.'

Sister Marie's further musings were interrupted as the blue xeno witch turned back to her with the warp damned mockery of a human smile on her lips.

"I hope you are enjoying the tour, the citadel is the most impressive jewel the council space has to offer, millions of sentient beings are living together peacefully in its wards, and with it being in the centre of the mass relay network it is also a trade hub for all races."

"It's one of the…bigger stations…I seen."

Nearly falling over her own feet officer D'roneus turned towards her charge incredulously, blinking in surprise, she must have misheard or?

There is no station even close to the citadel's size, or even bigger as the white haired woman was implying now, that just couldn't be….

"I see….where they longer than 50 km?"

Lenostia asked carefully, not wanting to believe a word, it just couldn't be that a human…

"Of course."

…were they even human? The officer asked herself as she suddenly got nervous, her mind replaying the observation of the white robed central figure, while the symbolism seemed human; there was without a doubt no Alliance human she had ever seen, wearing something remotely close to those robes and ornaments, which seemed more suited for a show about the dark ages or whatever the humans called their more savage phase in history.

What if they are a new race?

Licking her lips nervously she peered to her side, watching the white haired woman for a moment, if you remember how excited most of the asari were when the humans and these three were indeed form a new species….

"Say Marie….where are you from?"

The muscles in the Sister's body tensed as she looked to her side and found the xeno examining her with a look of hunger, reminding her of the wild and savage kroot the tau used as ground forces and jungle fighters.

Turning slightly to keep the xeno in her view and with an escape rout over the railing behind her, she let her hand glide into her robe, touching the soothing and trustful handle of her prized inferno gun. Forcing herself to smile cheerfully at the xeno she replied.

"Ophelia VII, second in sanctity only to Holy Terra itself, a whole world covered in shrines and cathedrals' sanctified… "

* * *

><p>"…in the name of the God-Emperor. May He look down at this meeting from the Golden Throne and bless it with the fulfilment of our wishes."<p>

She was a matriarch, her age measured in the centuries, she remembered the times when the Quarians still had an embassy on the citadel and she could pride herself to being one of the last beings to have ever seen one without the omnipresent suits they were forced to wear nowadays. Tevos was chosen by the Asari republics to represent them as councillor for her wisdom, her diplomatic nature and her ability to sooth even the worst conflicts which were brewed up at all times, by the goddess, she could even remember her grandmother telling her of her work in the krogan rebellions and how cruel and crushing the krogan expansion appeared to them at that time, how the Turians faced terrible loses and lost three worlds to asteroid bombardment. But all carefully chosen words she had prepared to excuse herself for the actions of her two colleagues seemed to have died on her lips as her guest, the missionary, pulled her hood back and she found herself staring into a balefully red glowing bionic eye, its golden metal look clashing terribly with the woman's pale skin around it.

She knew her species was often seen as placing too much worth on the aesthetical pleasing in all aspects of their life, but she also knew that humans where no different, trying to make prosthesis look as life like as possible, in particular for visible parts of their body, but this? The prosthesis with delusions of grandeur looked like a clash of concept, while it looked crude and at the same time indestructible, covering most of the left eye socket and parts disappearing under the missionary's braided long red hair, it was at the same time a piece of art, skilfully crafted miniatures seemingly either showing humans with weapons or books, interlaid with the ever repeating skull motif their visitors seemed to prefer for everything. It was the openly displayed machinery crafted to a biological being that threw her off and she only snapped back to attention as the missionary bowed down and interlocked her hands, forming a symbol close to the bird of prey which adorned her chest in gold.

"It's my pleasure to welcome you Missionary Sophana, I'm councillor Tevos of the Asari republics. I want to express my sincerest apologizes for the manner in which you arrived in council space, we want to assure you that we don't usually establish first contact by kidnapping members of a new species, we want to…"

"New species? I thought you were already familiar with humanity, the material you have given us had information about the civilization you call "Systems Alliance"."

Surprised Tevos gave her two guests a puzzled look, glancing at the black-haired woman behind the missionary who was acting as translator for both of them, holding a staff with… microphones?, at its top.

"We can assure you we have taken some small tests…" mostly with the hairs all three woman have left in the station and on the ship on their way here, "While you of course are very similar to the humans from earth, both in your appearance and genetics the differences…"

"…are petty." The Missionary stated with finality in her tone of voice, which she could even understand without translation.

"The differences you might have noted are from genetic drift, it is not unheard of for isolated human civilizations evolving along different lines when they lose contact to the rest of humanity and the Imperium for a few thousand years."

Tevos couldn't help but to feel shocked at the words, not only because the missionary just interrupted her, a councillor who decides over the fate of the galaxy daily, but because the missionary just wanted to make her believe that there were more humans in the galaxy? Forming civilizations, as in plural, while the missionary and her entourage hailed from an Imperium which consisted of the majority of human civilizations and which regarded a few thousand years as a negligible time span. This was just far too farfetched but at the same time not even the best experts of the STG were able to identify all the metals used in the groups jewellery and weapons, at least if you would count three swords as armament in the age of mass driven guns, while both of their pistols showed no trace of element zero just like the rest of their equipment. So in a usual pattern of evading responsibility for a decision Sparatus had declared them sword wielding savages and Valern had declared the disinterest of the Salarian Union as they seemed to know no element zero technology. Maybe they are using subspace flight then? Tevos nodded slightly at the idea, which surely showed why they could lose contact for thousands of years, if something happened that closed the usual travelling routes…

"Just how…large is the Imperium?"

"The last count in the beginning of M41 had over one million planets listed which showed fealty to the God-Emperor, but the number could go up and down at any moment, as planets are lost and recolonized at any moment."

More than a million worlds?! The councillor's mind boggled at the number imagining such a vast empire without element Zero and mass relays…she could nearly feel pity for the inhabitants, having to live without nearly instant communication and Extranet.

At least if that was true…they could just be embellishing their numbers, if you think about it, that was most likely, they seemed to love their religious expressions in all circumstances, with their emperor being seen as a divine being, then they might also see the million as an expression or just as a lucky number. Nodding to herself she felt a bit of pity with her visitors, maybe that was the reason why they thought they were the same species as the humans? Aching for companionship? Giving her counterpart a small smile she didn't mind the expressionless face of the missionary anymore, of course she must be trying to hide her anguish, being stranded so far from home in the middle of unknown species, she should help those three as good as she can, that would be the least for what her colleagues and their project have done to these three innocent clerics.

The innocent and impatient cleric meanwhile was watching the xeno's face with rising resentment, just why couldn't the xeno speak up again, she needed to get off this station and from what Sister Marie had found out there were just the right soil to spread the Imperial Cult through the heathens of this sector.

"Your apologies are unneeded councillor, if the road would be easy our destination would be worthless as the Saint Sabbath herself said. I just wish to be allowed to leave this station with my entourage and continue my mission to spread His words."

"Of course Missionary Sophana, I can understand your wish and as token of our apology the council would like to help you in your mission at least…"

Tevos couldn't continue much further as the missionary who could have been a statue till now broke into a loud and honest laughter after her translator had conveyed the asari's words.

Taken back for a moment the councillor could only make out small words with no sense to her something about "xeno" , "purge" and "their own", but choose to laugh herself a bit to ease the mood before continuing with a smile.

"But of course we would need to know a bit more about your religion…a basic overview of its teachings and if any threat to the current galactic order would be coming out from you?"

Taking the small smile on the missionary's lips as a good sign Tevos leaned back, suddenly very curious about this new species, after all there were only three of them and the little figurines on their ornaments had shown at least two different genders and with no idea how long their lifespans were this could be an unique chance for her and everyone else.

Standing up from her seat Flavia gave the xeno a smile, how could one doubt that the Emperor was holding his protective hands over them right now? What other explanation could there be for xenos wanting to spread his words and spread the seeds of their own destruction?

They were either trusting so easily like the blue witches or as condescending and filled with pride as their more animal-like looking wardens and if playing harmless for some years was needed to spread the faith and then ground them into dust? Then it is as it always was the task of His sacred Missionarus Galaxia to show subtlety were others would use force and lose precious human life on both sides which would be far better used against the alien and the heretic.

"Councillor, you must understand that the vastness of the Imperium is making it hard to keep one unified church with one set of rules and teachings, because of this the Ecclesiarchy, the state church, has chosen five tenets which have to be followed closely by all cults of the Emperor. The interpretation can…vary and is for the most part heavily influenced by the culture and former religions of a planet, giving us a great diversity in religious matters."

Seeing the xeno's eyes light up at the word of diversity, Flavia knew exactly how to play the xeno from now on, smiling as she took her prayer book from her hip, opening the page with the five tenets of the Imperial Creed slowly, and watching how the xeno seemed to grow more excited.

"The Ecclesiarchy is promoting the followed beliefs:

That the God-Emperor of Mankind once walked among men in their form and that He is and always has been the one, true God of humanity.

2. That the God-Emperor of Mankind is the one true God of Makind, regardless of

the previous beliefs held by any man or woman.

3. It is the duty of the faithful to … show the heretics the errors of their way, be

careful in their interactions with psykers and mutants, and mind the alien.

4. Every human being has a place within the God-Emperor's divine order.

5. It is the duty of the faithful to unquestionably obey the authority of the

…government and their superiors, who speak in the Emperor's name.

Would that answer that basic of your question councillor?"

Praying softly in her mind to absolve herself from the sin of changing the Imperial Creed, even if only to appease a xeno…a xeno of all things, even if it was a ruse she would sit together with Sister Marie later, only prayers cleanse a mind.

"Thank you Missionary, but still, I would like to ask what is meant by the interactions with mutants? Biotics are the only mutants our society is always faced with, so we won't allow…"

"Your worries are misplaced, that part came from experience, there were multiple worlds in our history which did use mutants as slave labour, giving them nearly no right, which finally lead to slave rebellions which sometimes cast whole sectors of space into anarchy, blood and fire, if this was the only point which was a problem for you?"

Seeing the xeno noding slightly Flavia decided to strike while the iron was still hot and she knew the Emperor was guiding her through this new task.

"My order is specialized on civilizing new worlds councillor, it's our task to make the natives ready for becoming part of the Imperium without complications if possible, one example is the showing of Imperial technology…", even if it was mostly to make them revere the Imperial technology and its bearers "….while we also try to replace the more…barbarous rituals some worlds may have developed after losing nearly all their technological progress and becoming what we call a feral world, this might include making them stop sacrificing humans or participating in cannibalism by replacing the human flesh through a rare animal and…"

Surprised missionary Sophana stopped as she noticed the councillor's face having lost colour in her purple face and was trembling slightly maybe that was already too much?

Shrugging she gazed down at the councillor slightly lowering the intensity of her red bionic eye a bit, giving it the impression of smouldering fire.

"As you can see my line of work is used to the more ugly sides of humanity, with your permission we would like to open a mission in or next to the Terminus system, we will take care of the ill and the orphans as He might have wanted it. But if you offer us your help we would welcome a moderate income to fund our mission as well as medical equipment to care for those who can't afford it themselves."

Seeing the still silent xeno nod a little Flavia allowed herself a small smile followed by forming the sign of the Aquila and as much as it pained her: a respectful bow to the councillor before turning around and heading for the door.

"Just….wait!" hearing the xeno call out she turned slightly, looking back at the blue witch again, raising her eyebrows.

"Of course that's a noble idea…but the terminus system is infested with pirates and slavers it's not safe to…"

"Councillor…some place their trust in warships, and some in weapons of destruction. But we remember the divine Emperor. They are brought down and fallen; but we are risen and victorious. We have our faith councillor and the Emperor protects those faithful."

With a curt nod, the most she would allow these xeno to have right now, Missionary Sophana turned around and strode out of the meeting room, Sister Marina following her dutifully her staff, as if by accident hitting the hallow wall, behind of which, one of the six Spectres, who were there to defend the Councillor, was hiding.

* * *

><p>"Very religious, some would say fanatically but so far they haven't shown any greater hostility towards anyone else till now…to the contrary, unlike our own religions they seem to have evolved and changed since they have reached space, even including mutants and aliens in their holy scriptures with special care."<p>

Tevos had finally relaxed again, what the missionary had described seemed….impossible, how could a civilization degenerate back to cannibalism and sacrificing their own?

All in all they had made a rather positive impression on her if only the other…

"She seemed closed up, not much mime and gestures to analyze, following pattern of all observation till now, only the presumably youngest of them seems to openly show much joy or sorrow. I am unsure if this is thanks to age or experiences in life."

"Valern, you have to be considerate! " , Tevos chided her Salarian colleague slightly, "Thanks to your experiment they are now with us, all alone and without any idea were their home might be, they are surely only hiding behind their duty to keep working."

Snorting slightly Sparatus nodded at these words;

"But you shouldn't forget that some really take honour in their duty and from what the missionary has told it's "sacred", their whole world seems to be religiously dressed up. You shouldn't discount the possibility they might be always like this and if these were only clerics….I would love to see how their military might be working, even if they must be relatively primitive without mass effect weapons."

"Are you Turians always interested in this one part of a culture? Don't you see the possibilities we could be able to take a glimpse at a culture… no, cultures! which have evolved without Element Zero and might have existed for thousands of years."

"But you want to allow them to leave? That is a highly inefficient course of action, dangerous, and we could lose our sources in the Terminus system like this."

Valern quickly interjected, earning a nod from Sparatus, who reached out with his talons and touches the data pad with the recorded conversation.

"Valern is right here Tevos, while I don't really have interest in them, don't you think it's risky to allow them to leave like this, even giving them funds from the council? You know how annoying the Hanar can be."

"While both of those might be true I think this is the best possible solution for now, don't you think they will be more forthcoming with information after having settled down a bit? I'm sure if we just give them some time to warm up to us we will have a working dialogue with them and they will learn to trust us. At the same time we can steer them to one of the safer planets when we control their funds, saying that the construction crews won't go into dangerous areas and don't you think helping orphans and the ill would also give a good image to us? I think we can safely presume they will choose a human colony just to be close to people similar to them…"

"…I still think it's very improbable that two so similar races…"

"Similar like asari and human Valern? As I wanted to say, don't you think showing that we care even for those humans who left the Alliance would be a boon?"

Nodding thoughtfully Sparatus' mandibles clicked audibly:

"That's true…with the raising popularity of the humans after they rescued us and saved the citadel any points for us would be welcome… and I think we should have this matter solved before Councillor Anderson joins us."

Smiling warmly at her fellow Councillors approval Tevos signed the orders to channel funds towards the missionary happily, they might learn to trust the council, the incident can be hidden and forgotten, the council can devote its time back to the important matters and if you look at the missionary's last words anyone should be reassured, a religion which preaches that faith is stronger than any WMD or warship can only be peaceful and something the galaxy needs.

* * *

><p>"These people need us Missionary Sophana, while the mere tolerance of xeno life is already heresy these humans are utterly ignorant of their divine destiny to rule and the sacrifice of the God-Emperor and from what I have gathered the attack this station suffered was made by a whole fleet of abominable Intelligence."<p>

While Sister Marie's demeanour was calm on the outside, Flavia could understand just fine how the wish to purge this abhorrent station was building up in the heart of a truly faithful, just looking at all the humans who were tainting themselves just by living together with the deceitful xenos on this station.

The more the small Imperial group saw the greater their disgust became as they strolled through the market of the Zakera ward's market, having rejoined each other at one of the lifts, where Sister Marie gave the ignorant xeno a "heartfelt" goodbye, exchanging Omni tool addresses before rejoining with her respected superior on the market, watching the comings and goings of humans and xenos with a carefully schooled expressionless mask.

Moving silently through the crowd, their clothes and trinkets helping to quickly form a passage in front of them as the passers-by seemed to evade them as much as possible, some humans with an asari companion suddenly finding themselves staring into condemning dark eyes that might have killed with the right bionics, but so only made them hurry away quickly from the nut job, whose carrying a staff with multiple microphones on top of its end.

"What will be our future approach to this…situation from now on, honoured missionary?"

Sister Marie asked in a near whisper as she followed the once again hooded Flavia, who was heading into the darker part of the ward with bars open on both sides of the road and garish colours advertising one or another drink for everyone.

Even the short glances they got in passing where disgusting humans and xenos alike drooling at more of these blue skinned witches who were stripping or dancing on stages with nearly no clothing, this was just not normal, maybe the Arch enemy had a hand in their creation?

Their musing got interrupted as a door opened next to them and a human man was thrown out of it, nearly bumping into the missionary.

Taking a step back Flavia examined the man, he was wearing black clothing, rather plain while his body was athletic, showing the traces of regular training, the small insignia on his cloth's shoulder quickly let her identify him as a member of the human navy outside the station, looking at him she noticed how his hands were moving over the floor as if he didn't know where he was or…couldn't see. Nodding to Marie, both of them reached down and started to lift him up again.

"Don't worry, we are helping you", Sister Marina said helpfully as he struggled slightly.

Upon hearing a soothing voice he gave a weak nod and got on his feet again, using the help to balance himself to a bench, where he sat down and gave the imperials a grateful smile.

"Thank you, I'm still a bit new at the whole being blind thing", he tried to joke weakly, "I'm….I was Ensign Thomas Fletcher from the 24th fighter Group, so once again thank you for your help."

Reaching out and squeezing his shoulder softly with her hand, Flavia leaned closer to him inspecting the bandage which glued over his eyes like a plaster, before asking slowly;

"Won't the navy pay for a set of bionic eyes?" At home, even the guardsmen and void born could hope for a low-grade bionic which was easily cobbled together and distributed by a tech priest.

"Ohhh they would, if my nerves wouldn't be totally fried and any surgery on them far too expensive, where is the justice in that? Five-sixth of my Group died distracting this Geth Dreadnought Sovereign, we were the first to engage and only broke off after it was destroyed and while the fallen at least get a burial with all military honours I'm left blind and with my bit of pension…just great."

Hearing the destiny of this pilot Flavia smiled softly, no matter how corrupt, how decadent and tainted a ruling class maybe, even here surrounded by xenos humanity was a shining light, its pilots and warriors willing to give their life for their families and home, maybe not yet deliberately for the Emperor himself but human nature was prevailing.

Ensign Fletcher flinched slightly as a pair of hands cupped his head gently, fingertips moving over his bandaged eyes, his mind still wondering just why he just ranted his problems to a stranger, a stranger who had helped him but nonetheless…he could barely cry out as a small shock when through his eyes and a burning feeling filled his eyeholes for a moment, strong hands holding him as he tried to thrash around.

Gasping for breath the pain finally subsides and he could feel someone starting to pull on his bandages, making him quickly start to protest:

"Hey! Don't do that…whatever you just did hurt like hell, but the doctor ordered the bandage should stay on till he says-argg"

He cried out as the bandage came off his skin unwillingly, sending a short pain through him, his eyes automatically closing to defend themselves as a strong but soothing feminine voice came from in front of him:

"You should be proud and rejoice, for there is no greater glory than a lifetime of dutiful service and in the end every sacrifice will be living on in His memory."

Ensign Fletcher didn't count himself as a religious man and most men would have lost any hope when they were attacking an enemy which seemed invulnerable to his weapons and was forced to hear his comrades dying screams. But right now at this moment which seemed filled with the loss of everything his life held dearly and with an unclear future, at this moment he opened his eyes and saw. It wasn't the mere seeing which seemed like a miracle in itself as the dark contours around him became sharp again and he regained his vision, it wasn't like he was seeing a some sort of divine glimpse in this moment, but what he saw was a smile.

It wasn't a happy smile, being merry because of his healing; it wasn't a kind smile which was carried by the nurses or doctors which told good news, not at all.

What he was seeing at this moment was a smile filled with pride, pride not only for him but for something more, this smile seemed to remind him of ages long past, when priests went into the field with the troops, blessing them and promising the paradise in death.

But this one didn't, her clothing wasn't adorned with pictures of hope but those of death, her healing wasn't a miracle for his own good, it filled him with the knowledge she saw him as being part of something bigger, this wasn't a reward out of pity, nor for the sacrifices, but for the mere fact of doing his duty and going beyond was just part of it.

Raising his hands to his face, he ran his fingers around his healed eyes, the charred and blistered skin of a glance by an energy weapon was gone, he could see.

Looking up to his saviours, he didn't feel the fear others had, he knew what they were, they weren't the clerics that comfort you to move over your loss, they were priests of battle.

He looked up to the hooded woman in front of him, whispering a simple "How?"

She only looked down at him with a smile, not kind, not happy, not pitying but proud as she reached out for his hand, depositing a small weight in his hand, closing it around a small metallic object, before simply continuing to smile.

Opening his palm he brought the small pendant closer to his eyes and for a moment he seemed to be able to read the foreign and alien words, which hide behind familiar letters.

"The Tools of our Salvation are Faith and Bullets."

"Till now you only had one, but now Ensign Fletcher of the 24th fighter group, you shall fulfil your duty for humanity and the God-Emperor who has given you the chance to do so through our intervention."

The words seemed to hit something deep inside of him and he remained on the bench staring at the pendant for some time, it was made from silver, showing a bird of prey with its wings spread and his claws ready, but it was different, it had two heads one seeing and one blind, he was so deep in thought that he barely heard his saviours question:

"Would you know when the next shuttle leaves for Cyrene?"

* * *

><p><span><strong>For the Readers:<strong>

* * *

><p>originalname412: to true and I hope you have liked this chapter and that the future ones might suit you too<p>

Doc4: Most likely, but isn't it nice to believe in the good of people?...ok, this three might be the wrong ones for that

Jouanit: Thanks and no, it isnt.

Lovin it: Thank you and I'll try. And regarding the slaves...no one likes Batarian Slavers...no one misses them.

DeathAdder47117: Thank you for correction this chapter!

The Lone Swordswolf: They are not going to join Shepard, whos going to be dead the next 2 years anyway, but the story will follow the canon timeline and small things will intersect between both and no: no Cerberus takeover

RandomReader: Thanks I know Latin and need it in university, but Missionarius Galaxia is handled the same as Missionaria Galaxia, its the same name for one organisations, which is, like the armed Missionaries, part of the rule books and lore, you can even take them as part of your IG Army I guess... And yes, as you said it yourself it is having this as a parallel universe because of the Warhammer 40k lore.

Blinded in a bolthole: Nice idea, but I dont want to mess with human evolution traces on earth and it wouldn't matter anyway. And you are right they are powered, which is one a first glance less spectacular than a chainsword, but fear not chainsword and flamer will make many appearances later. And yes, they are both from the Adepta Sororitas, but I choose two of the less known orders for a change.

CigarChomper: Thank you and..there is always sense in prayers, just how you twist it~


	4. The shortest Spectre career

**Chapter 4**

* * *

><p><strong>Thought of the Corrector: I think that was the shortest spectre career ever...<strong>

* * *

><p>Sometimes it really didn't pay out to stand up and sometimes it just wasn't worthwhile to become a spectre for the citadel council; at least the new salarian Council Spectre Zudar Paelane thought so as he was staring at the interface for the corvette he had gotten to transport the "guests" or Imperials as some started to call them, to the moon Cyrene.<p>

They couldn't really fault the choice, it even seemed that the Imperials had their own world named Cyrene which became some sort of religious symbol of dutifulness, but of course everything seemed religious to them.

Sighing he reached out with his hand and swept over the controls on his right, making a small projection appear instead, showing the three Imperials in their rooms, the missionary was leaning over her book….who had a book in this age anyway, while her companions, who were from some kind of nun order were kneeling on the floor and reciting songs since hours.

And this was the day, Spectre Zudar Paelane, member of the STG and the direct agent of the council: sitting in a cockpit, staring at the autopilot, looking at an outdated entertainment library and the five VI programs which replaced the usual ten men strong crew of the vessel. Being chauffeur for three primitive religious madwomen didn't really help to raise his mood as he stared at the navigation VI, while he could intellectually understand the reason why it was so important to transport the sole three specimens of a race they had discovered….why did he have to be chosen to transport them?

Sighing to himself he pointed the VI's at the next mass relay and looked down at the datapads the council had given him on their guests: a deeply religious Society, which even had at least one planet covered in religious buildings and seemed to have built an empire without Mass relays only relaying on standard FTL, making coordination between planets very hard and might even lead to "loosing" a planet when they get into a crisis.

Admirably, but of course totally unneeded if they would just have mass relays but at the same time, would any of the council space be able to expand even out of their home systems without mass relays? Maybe, but these Imperials must be old and have a long space faring history to reach any expansion like this and while they didn't seem to have any interesting technology on themselves and most likely nothing of interest at their home, the cultural implications was making some analysts drool already.

As the council was pretty much occupied with the whole mess at the citadel, while at the same time not trusting anyone else to continue the first contact they were relying on the information they could get by observing them, not that the short talk between Councillor Tevos and missionary Sophana didn't fuel everyone's interest already.

But really; The Imperials already sounded like the opposite of the turians, relaying in faith instead of weapons? Religion instead of warships?, sure sounded like the Hanar and they didn't seem as xenophobic as the flying jellyfishes, more like a tense politeness, but of course that was to be expected at such a first contact with them in a weaker position and far away from home. But all in all it might not be a total lose, if it could at least keep some pro-council sentiments under human colonists going and with the chance to make a small change in their health structure and such….there could be worse ways to use funds.

Continuing his musings for a moment he was finally snapped out of them as the corvette was closing to the first mass relay, its spinning centre as fascinating as usual when an idea entered his mind, activating the camera in the visitor's room, he gave their walls the projection of the ship as they came along the mass relay, the ship getting into its reach, the blue field flickering to life all around the ship as it was shot out of system by the relay, the surroundings becoming a blur of blue and violet streaks as the ship was catapulted towards the next relay.

The spectre wasn't disappointed, all three Imperials stopped in their prayers and jumped to their feet, drawing their swords of all things as they looked at the projection and then at each corner of the room as if expecting some sort of ghost to erupt from the corners.

He became truly puzzled by their behaviour as they remained in the centre of the room, with swords drawn and back to back, like in a holovid about historical adventures...only to start praying again, not seeming to stop as the travel stopped and they arrived next to the next mass relay with the swirl of colour dying down on the screen.

Taking a quick look at his passengers he reached to his arm and activated a small recording tool for further studies:

"They, the Imperials, seem to think their religion and subsequent praying is able to solve all their problems and concluding from their behaviour they are not familiar with any effect similar to the travel through a relay, they even seemed to be terrified by it for a moment, drawing their melee weapons and intensifying their prayers. From this observation we can conclude multiple things: first of all that the current theory of them lacking any method of travel other than our FTL seems to be true, their reactions to the nearly instant travel seems to be, again: compared to human and asari mime and gestures, surprised.

Furthermore their first reaction was the seizing and unsheathing of their swords, indicating that they are not merely decorative, but the first weapon of choice. Using such weapons over their pistols, which we have been scanned for any eezo traces which they do not have, meaning either an unreliability of their guns, which is unlikely as they didn't seem that surprised from most citadel tech and must be similar so far in their development or at least have the ideas behind some things, or that using swords seems to be a deeply ingrained part of their culture, even overriding common sense when placed in combat. It should be seen, that their sword styles might be catalogued and later on added to official records, it might be one of the surprises a cultu-"

Spectre Paelane never got to finish his note, as he was violently thrown backwards into his seat, as all warning lights seemed to flare up on his interface and he could barely see the contour of a ship close to frigate size before another hit shook the whole ship and sent him tumbling out of his chair and on the floor of the small bridge the corvette had.

Swiftly he stumbled upwards again, shaking his head slightly, his right horn having taken a much too close acquaintance and his skull throbbing slightly, he was already in his seat, his hands dancing through the air in great haste trying to find out just what happened.

"Zudar Paelane of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance, how fortunate to meet you here and that even on your first mission as a spectre."

A gloating voice suddenly filtered out of the corvette's communications as the picture of a batarian with a rather pleased look came into view, his four eyes staring at Paelane in amusement.

"We heard you were transporting specimens of a newly found race with humanlike characteristics. Can you imagine what one might get for them on the market? They would have novelty, the charm of asari and humans some indulge in and of course our customers would love to explore their limits and abilities to no end. Would you be so kind as to fly into our hangar, we can assure you we made space for you to fit in just snuggly."

The batarian "offered" with the sarcasm dripping from his last words as Paelane was still cursing his luck and trying to judge if he should try to flee, risking the VIPs or comply in hope of overwhelming the pirates on their ship…

"And don't get any ideas Spectre, you won't bring any weapons on-board with you and if you try that you can be sure your nice little corvette will be blown from space, leaving your dear colleagues no traces to find us, so your choice would be?"

"You must be mad to think I would just surrender myself to you, we are only one jump away from the citadel you won't even have time before the patrol re-enters the sys—",

The rest of his words turned to ash on his tongue as he remembered the state of not only the citadel fleet but also the patrols were right now, less ships patrolling the "safe" centre of the galaxy right now, letting small ships like…a frigate slip through them. The amused smirk of the batarian only showed that he had just the same thoughts right now and knew that no help was going to come soon, or at least not in time to help him.

"I see…but I still won't give you my passengers, it's the council's own demand that they reach their destination without a problem, so if you want to get them, come and get -"

The Salarian didn't get to finish his sentence once again, this time gasping for air as strong hands closed themselves around his mouth and for a moment he had the terrible thought that the pirates might have already boarded, just how? Zero G suits with magnetic boots and hull cutters? Pirate stowaways, hidden in the storage room? The only thing he could see right now were the red colour of the robe's sleeves….robes….the Imperials.

Two hands grasped his face and slowly tilted his head to the left, while he knew it was showing deference for the pirate, he didn't know just why the Imperials got the information, maybe to improve relations? They might come to rival the asari in diplomacy if they always minded the subtle gestures of other species like this.

But right now this only served to make the batarian stare surprised at his screen for a moment before erupting into laughter and tilting his head to the right in return, before looking at the three Imperials behind the salarian.

"So you are having a Spectre around your little finger already? I'm expecting you to be in my ship in five minutes and to make me quite rich, you three."

As the connection was cut from the other end, the bridge dimmed down, only the orange glow of the holograms and the low red alarm lights making anything visible right now, the damage reports showing nothing major as the pirates want their "goods" undamaged.

Goods which, as Paelane was seeing in disbelief, were walking quite carefree towards the corvette's hangar as if being brought into slavery wasn't any reason to worry.

Jumping up from his chair he walked after them until he reached the missionary, grabbing her shoulder and turning her around, wanting to make her see that standing down was no option and there had to be another way to…his thoughts came to an end as the ever smoldering red of her bionic eye was staring at him from underneath her white hood, the ruby in the eagle on her chest reflecting the light maliciously.

"We…we can't…I mean the council ordered me to keep you safe and….the pirates…"

He babbled quickly, maybe to quickly as the missionary didn't seem to reply only regarding him with the red unwavering stare of her eye, as he absently reached to the side and took his assault rifle from a locker at the side,

"Missionary, when we surrender to them, they will…"

_**"There is only the Emperor, and he is our shield and protector."**_

Flinching at the vehemence and finality those words were spoken to him in, Zudar took his trusty gun and slowly put it down, letting his pistol accompany it in the locker as he gave the VI's their directions and slowly followed the Imperials into the hangar, "Does he also protect me?"

* * *

><p>Weary, old, having seen better days and needing much more maintenance to look pristine once again: the frigate's hangar might as well be the epitome of the batarian navy and no matter how relaxed the ten batarians arrayed around the corvette's lowered loading bridge seemed to be, Paelane recognized their postures and steady grips on their weapons as military not just some pirate gang, which dared to come so close to the citadel.<p>

At a second glance the equipment lying around in the hangar of the batarian frigate seemed to support the theory, while the equipment wasn't as modern as other navies it was still some ways above the budget of some random slavers or pirates.

His thoughts came to a halt as the batarian who contacted him before strode confidently into the hangar standing in front of their little group, while the salarian himself brought himself between the slavers and his charges, meeting the batarian head on in the middle.

"Spectre Paelane, I'm captain Kopmabar and it's a pleasure to see you have taken the peaceful way, I assure you that you will be…."

Whatever the captain wanted to say, Spectre Paelane never got to hear the rest as strong hands shoved him from behind with surprising strength, sending him forward, crashing right into the batarian who tried to evade and both of them stumbled towards the other batarians who brought their weapons up and aimed at the Spectre and the white haired Imperial who had shoved him forward and was now standing just behind both of them, using both the Spectre and the batarian to obscure her reach into her robes as she pulled her inferno pistol out and pressed its tip against the Spectre's back as they closed the last few inches of distance towards the guards.

Modern hard-suits consist of a dual layer, the inner layer working with fabric armor and kinetic padding to keep the wearer safe from crushing against any edges and with hard ceramic plates on the less mobile parts of the body. But in the end the true protection of each suit lies with the outer layer, the automatically generated kinetic barrier which stops all projectiles which hit above a certain velocity, by using tiny transmitters and a repulsive mass effect field to deflect them.

And while the hard-suits were ever evolving, ever changing and improving they were not much use against environmental hazards as of yet, neither against heat nor radiation and the batarians were now having to expect both coming to knock at their doors as Sister Marie's finger pulled the trigger on her inferno pistol, with its muzzle pressed against the back of the salarian. Inferno pistols are unlike any mass effect pistol, they seemed crude from the outside, unwieldy and inelegant compared to a carnifex for example, it seemed utterly alien.

But no matter how ugly it seemed with its round bulbs above the handle containing the gas it need for its operation, it was working and after a short pressing against the trigger the nearly ten thousand year old pistol fired its fiery breath at the xenos.

One thing that was sure is; Spectre Zudar Paelane didn't feel any pain.

He could have felt how the muzzle was pressed against his back, but at least this feeling might have been stopped by the armour he was wearing, but the moment Sister Marie pulled the trigger he was incinerated, he wasn't in flames, he didn't burn, just what was one moment ago a salarian was a pile of ash and molten ceramic in a blink of an eye.

But Paelane didn't change his state alone, captain Kopmabar was a pile not dissimilar to him, his pistol forming a gently curved trail of melting steel on the ground.

Sharing their fate were seven of the other batarians who stood to close to them, the backs of their armours still barely resembling their original shape but now filled with ash and a few charred parts of the former wearers.

But compared to the three batarians in the rear these fates still seemed merciful, the armour melting heat of the inferno pistol, usually used to break holes into the hardest armours like those of Terminator Marines didn't just incinerate the unlucky Spectre who was used as a distraction and meat shield as well as the batarian soldiers between the Imperials and the door out of the hangar, but also melted the alloys of the wall and the floor, melting and twisting it, puddles of steaming hot slag dripping from the walls and the ceiling, right on the last guards, their armour in a similar state and burning into their flesh just like their weapons which had turned into searing slag just as well, burning away their gloves and the hands underneath them. But the three Imperials ignored the tortured cries of pain in cold blood as they strode around the affected area, the clank of their steps highlighted against the background pops and clanks of the superheated alloys next to them as they reached the door.

Missionary Sophana couldn't help but smile to herself; this was familiar ground again, no smiles, no talks, just one's holy duty to cleanse all xenos from the face of the galaxy in the name of the God-Emperor. But even behind their so human like masks the wickedness of these xenos was lurking, didn't they let humans be enslaved by these four eyed xenos? Didn't they look down at humanity? Not that this fact was surprising, the local pocket empire called Systems Alliance which seemed to be used like a lobotomized grox and if this Ensign Fletcher was telling everything accurately, the damned xeno council she had to meet was only living thanks to the price of human blood, which was paid to rescue them.

**"Missionary, the door mechanism is still open and Sister Marina reports panicked xeno chatter on the vox channels she can find, we should now go and cleanse this ship."**, the voice Sister Marie came from her right, having taken a crouch next to the door, her power sword, resembling a long sword in her right hand with her finger above the activation rune, the inferno pistol already back in her robes.

**"Good, take position next to the door, we will have to make our way to the bridge of this ship and if it compares to the flimsy layouts we have seen so far it should be either at the tip, so we just have to strike our way forward, at the work of an hour for His most faithful servants."**, with an eager look at the door she activated her own power sabre, Imperial Guard issue, and held it in her right hand, while her left hand was holding a Mars Pattern Mark IV Command Laspistol, also Imperial Guard issue, as she looked at the Sisters **"To be hunted-"**

**"That is the mark of the Xeno."**, Sister Marina continued as she also pulled her own laspistol from the Imperial Guard's stocks from her holster and held it in the left hand, her staff still in her right, before closing her eyes and intoning:** "To be purged-"**

**"That is the fate of the Xeno"**, finished Sister Marie as her free left reached out and touched the holographic lock of the door, letting it slide open just to reveal the surprised look of a batarian in full armor, with at least five more security guards standing behind him just wanting to storm into the room to see what happened and just how radiation could appear inside the ship, which blinded the internal sensors.

**"To be cleansed-"**, the missionary intoned as she moved fluently around the corner, her sabre up and crackling with a blue halo of electricity, as it came down and passed effortlessly through the first batarian's barrier, armour ceramic and finally through his own soft neck, coming out again without a drop of blood but accompanied by the stench of scorched flesh as the body falls backwards and landed with a loud thud, the noise finally breaking the other batarians out of their bewilderment they had felt when they were charged with a sword of all things, but with their sergeant, one head shorter they did the sensible thing: dive into cover.

**"That is the fate of all Xenos!"**, both Sisters yelled as they broke out of their cover to throw the slavers into disarray before they could lay down fire along the narrow hallway were only some crates were offering any sort of cover for either group.

The second closest batarian could only cry out as he slide behind a crate only to have a white haired, nearly two hundred year old Seraphim jump over it gracefully, landing behind him and bringing her sword around in the same movement, its crackling blade tearing through him like tissue paper and parting him in half as a gurgled scream fought out of his mouth, making his comrades urgently lay down covering fire on Sister Marie as she crouched behind her own crate herself now. But not for long as two loud cracking sounds notified the hearer of a rush of heated air, as two bright red and orange beams raced through the hallway near the speed of light giving none of the intended targets a chance to take cover again as batarian heads met the Imperium's most humble type of weapon: the laspistol, which shots passed right through their barrier before hitting their helmets in a small explosion of heat which melted clean through them and blasted their skulls open for their superheated brain mass to leak out onto the floor as their bodies fell to the floor lifelessly their brain exposed to the surroundings half cooked and charred, the only minor traces of blood which were not vaporized spread around so little that it was disturbing.

At least the last two batarians thought so, as they huddled behind their cover and shouted into their communicators in panic, firing the assault rifles blindly over the crates, not wanting to risk peeking out to get hit by a direct energy weapon of all things!

Not that it did them any good as Sister Marie used the lessened fire on her position to leap over her cover and then theirs lithely, her sword's tip finding its way into the first batarian's chest even before she touched the ground again, letting his comrade stumble backwards in terror only to expose his head to a shot from the Missionary, the heavy command pistol vaporizing his face and most of his head with ease and only leaving a few charred stripes of him as the corpse hit the ground.

**"Cleansed…the xeno vox seemed to have grown even more frantic, it seems the xenos' second in command is trying to rally them at their work stations and seal themselves in, they are thinking the spectre is killing off the security teams."**, Sister Marie announced without any sign of worry as of yet, while a small smile played around the missionary's lips as she heard the xenos' expectations, this might be quite a good way to resolve the situation with the citadel species afterwards.

**"Sister Marie, take one of the least damaged corpses with us, I fear we will have to use the lift to get into their bridge."** Flavia ordered after a small moment of planning, before walking up to the Elevator and pressing its lock, gesturing for the Sisters and the corpse which "only" got stabbed to follow, before giving them a praising nod as she stepped into the circular lift and set it into motion to the top floor as everyone was inside, both her and Sister Marina taking the sides with the Sister of the Orders Sabine taking the middle with the corpse held by her from behind;

**"Remember: Against the Alien and the Traitor there's no fair way to fight."**

Before the Sisters could answer with more than a nod themselves the lift came to a stop again and the door retreated leaving the bridge personnel of twelve gaping at them from behind a makeshift barricade of chairs and a table, raising three assault rifles and maybe six pistols unsteadily at the group but hesitated as they saw no trace of the salarian spectre with them but instead one of their security group, standing in front of their future slaves who were brandishing swords and pistols, but it couldn't be that they…

Thoughts in that direction didn't get much further as Sister Marie tossed the dead corpse forward, letting it hit the barricade and using it as a stepping stone to leap over it as she brandished her sword and it flared up to life once again crackling electricity letting the batarians shriek as they tried to scramble aside or open fire, only hitting each other in their close surroundings, while the long sword found its way into the belly of the first batarian unlucky enough to be next to Sister Marie's landing spot, the skull in its crossguard laughing mockingly at him as the rifle glided out of his lifeless fingers, the sword exiting to the side and swung upwards in an arc cutting the hands of a pistol wielding technician off leaving him howling at his cauterized stumps, letting the defenders descend into mad panic, shooting in the direction of the sword wielding nightmare which seemed to have stormed their ship, only to hit each other or stumble out of their cover and getting picked off by the bright red beams of the two laspistols who's crackling noises gave their own part to the symphony of melee which had erupted in a way most modern navy actions hadn't seen since the time wooden ships were engaging each other with broadsides of cannons.

And while the batarians were being cut down one by one, or shot right through their barriers whenever they showed any place which could be aimed at, Sister Marie danced around them, while she didn't have the unnatural grace of an eldar, or the enhanced gene seed of a space marine, she had more than a hundred years of training and experience from the moment she was chosen to be inducted into the Order Militant, her natural agility, faith and combat prowess leading her into the Seraphim squads where she became an expert of all maneuvers one could do on their feet or in mid-air itself.

And so her sword slid through the air in calculated moves, disarming and dismembering in the literal meaning of the words as the small group of defenders melted away around her falling through either the Imperials or their own fire.

Finally the last batarian fell from a strike splitting him in half from shoulder to groin, and the missionary and Sister Marina closed up to the barricade, taking one of the corpses and throwing it across the lift's threshold to stop it from moving downwards again as they jumped over the barricade and gave Sister Marie a small nod, who seemed largely unharmed except some holes in her robes which might have come from the splinters the wild shooting had produced all around her from the furniture the barricade consisted off.

**"The pilot is hiding in the cabinet over there."**

The missionary announced after a quick look around with her bionic eye, pointing at a rather large locker at the side of the command central, next to the door leading to the pilot seat.

Nodding Sister Marie walked up to the cabinet and pulled the door open, making a sobbing batarian tumble out of it and landing on the floor looking around fear stricken at what must be something like demons to cut through his comrades with such weapons and ease.

Reaching down, the white haired Sister pulled him up with one hand, her sword always staying close to his chest as she turned him until he face the member of the Order Dialogous, who just got her instructions from the Missionary as she stared coldly at the batarian.

"Xeno you might rejoice, as the esteemed Missionary Sophana is offering you a chance to help us in progressing the God-Emperors divine will, by using your techno sorcery for us."

Quickly tilting his head to the left a small bit of hope blossomed inside of him, as he hurried to a workstation on the wall, ready to do just about anything to evade the fate of his former comrades who were now either minced meat, their parts littering the ground or even worse: their eyes together with their heads vaporized by something impossible: a hand held laser weapon!

"Good xeno, now you shall use your soulless machine to open the airlocks in all rooms which do not lead from the hangar to here, so that their deaths may further His cause."

Coldness seemed to spread in the pilots stomach as he turned towards the console and started to override the security measurements, trying to stop himself from thinking of the seventy other crew members, mostly technicians and caretakers for the ship and the slaves…

"ehhh….Ma'am? There are still slaves in slave pens should they be…" he started slowly, maybe he could…

"Are there humans in them?" the red robed Sister interrupted him sharply before getting a small nod of approval from the Missionary.

"…they are mixed, some asari, turians and humans we got from a shuttle, not more than twelve, they would have given a bit of extra profit after we…."

"Silence xeno. Are those slave pens connected to the elevator?", after getting a small nod, she leaned forward and watched the ships diagram over his shoulder, "Any of your kind still with them?", after getting a head shake now she nodded "Good, then spare them as well and vacuum the rest of the ship."

Hearing the order with gruesome anticipation he entered his command and closed his eyes, seeing how his comrades….friends were sucked out of their rooms and flung into the cold, their souls trapped in their corpses as their eyes got detonated by the vacuum and cold, their dying breath cursing his name and…laughter?

Turning around he could see that these Imperials…no, monsters, had found the display of an exterior camera and were laughing of all things as they could see the air being sucked out of the ship, batarians wildly moving around without any use as they seemed to become smaller and smaller, doomed to die when their suits oxygen was depleted or already dead when they even lacked a helmet and these monsters were laughing as his friends died? Cold rage built up inside of him as he jumped out of the chair to harm them in some way, no matter how, just to find himself face to muzzle with the barrel of the Missionary's laspistol, who pulled the trigger without a second thought and splattered his head all over his console as the headless corpse dropped to the ground.

**"The xeno is wicked and treacherous, and ruthlessness is the virtue of the faithful. Sisters, we have done our sacred work for the Emperor in cleansing this ship, we shall liberate our brothers and sisters who were enslaved by those foul xenos and destroy this piece of techno heresy, would that be possible Sister Marina?"**, Flavia said in a measured voice as she turned back towards the sisters and the lift again.

**"Certainly Missionary, the xeno tech is showing its primitiveness and lack of respect shown to its machine spirit by its simplicity and eagerness to destroy itself, we could utilise their reactor and destroy this sorry excuse for a ship easily."**, Sister Marina supplied and stepped towards a less charred console, swiftly pressing the needed xeno runes until a red warning light appeared,

**"It's readied."**

Giving her a sharp nod in return missionary Sophana turned back and leapt over the barricade once again, with her robe bellowing around her legs as she came down again and entered the lift, followed shortly by both sisters who had sheathed their weapons again, kicking the xeno corpse aside before the door closed again and they moved downwards.

* * *

><p>The slave pens as the xeno had called them didn't really impress Flavia, compared to some of the under hive or lower parts of some battleships she had travelled on they even seemed quite comfortable with a mattress and electrical lights, inside the cell like structures were eight humans, two asari and two of the bird like turians, 3 out of 4 wasn't that terrible.<p>

Gesturing towards a console she watched Sister Marina hurry towards it, starting to search for the correct rune to release them, while Sister Marie walked up in front of the cells and waved with an easy smile, slipping back into her role to keep them calm.

Finally the doors to the cells opened and their inhabitants hesitantly stepped out, the two asari were first, both with a rather groggy expression, needing support from each other to remain standing. Similar views were the two turians, but in their case it was from one of them being old, at least as far as she could read these xenos, supporting him was a younger member of the same species, but slimmer than those she had seen so far, maybe female?

The last ones to step out were the humans, they seemed like the typical inhabitants of an Agri-World with strong arms and legs and brown, rather plain coloured clothes which would not hinder them when working, there were two women and three men, the other three being children, ranging from the age of ten to fourteen, all of them even the xenos looking at her and the Sisters curiously and with gratitude in their eyes.

Setting a false smile on her lips she bowed and formed the sign of the Aquila with her hands, trying to concentrate on the humans and not the xenos she was facing, while Sister Marina translated:

_**"Greetings, I'm Flavia Sophana, Missionary of the Ecclesiarchy, if you would please follow us, council Spectre Paelane is still on the bridge to give us the opportunity to escape."**_

Straightening up again she gave them another one of her comforting smiles before turning aside and pointing at the lift watching how the xeno limped past her, the older turian seemingly laughing because of something, while the younger tried to calm him down again, both of the blue skinned witches throwing her thankful glances, which made her unwell just from seeing them, before finally her fellow humans walked past, making a small genuine smile appear on her lips as a little girl smiled up to her and the farmers mumbled small thanks as they filled into the lift, only seeming slightly confused by the strange iconography their rescuers were showing, the turian staring at their swords amused, not suspecting the carnage they did only a few minutes ago.

With everyone finally in the lift they took it upstairs and Flavia stepped out glad everything was finally over only for a high pitched scream to make her frown as she turned around and saw two of the Agri-Women holding each a young girl or boy, while their husbands or male companions, were holding them in turn as they looked down the hallway and saw the remains of the five unlucky security guards who had tried to stop the Imperials before.

Sighing as she saw the way everyone except the old turian had stopped and was looking everywhere except at the corpses uneasily, Flavia walked back and spotted the older girl who was standing alone without someone comforting her, but who also did not take her eyes of the corpses. Reaching out and taking her hand the Missionary gave her a smile before slowly pulling her down the hall until they were at the end and she reached down, grasping the cleanly severed head of the batarian at its helmet and lifting it up for the girl to see, while she herself smiled encouragingly and the girl seemed to have the look of someone who was far away as she reached out and touched the visor of it and moved her lips in a small whisper:

"They killed….everyone…I'm alone…" she mumbled as her eyes started to tear up and her arms fell down to her sides weakly.

Seeing that the further audience at the lift was staring at the severed head with disgust and in cases of the humans and surprisingly of the blue xeno too, becoming quite green in the face.

Looking down at the girl the Missionary had to smile, young, malleable and having lost her parents to xenos, maybe not as young as one could wish but there was no better material for a Schola Progenium available right now, so she had to do as the first of many. Letting the head fall down to the floor again and reaching down, pulling the girl into a small hug, not minding how small hands clenched into her robe as the newest Progena sobbed into her chest.

Patting the girls back, she whispered back unheard by the other freed who slowly came closer, their urge to become free once again overriding their shock at the scene.

_**"You are never alone if you believe in Him and he will ask nothing of you but to hate, because hate is His greatest gift to humanity. Do not dwell in despair child, use it, fuel your faith and take vengeance at the xeno for the loss of your loved ones, for the Emperor."**_

Standing up again she gave the Sisters a small nod, who started to usher the group through the doorframe and into the hangar, only for more cries and the sound of people vomiting reaching her ears. Rolling her eyes she held the girl close and looked at the hangar; those weak in faith are truly mollycoddled if they can't even recognize the greatness of His servants work without feeling terrified, but the heathen can't do anything against it as of yet.

Staying behind for a further moment to let the Sisters deal with them and how to place them in the already small "corvette", she looked down at her side and patted the girl's hair, which still clung to her side.

_**"So little one, what's your name?"**_ Flavia asked softly, remembering the few times she already had to deal with children, at least this girl wasn't a stuck up noble's daughter.

"Hailey Satterfield…" came the soft reply from her side.

_**"A nice name, say Hailey, we are alone as well but we want to make a school, a school with many more bright children like you, how would you like to come with us?"**_, the missionary asked gently.

"Can….can I think about it?"

_**"Of course, we need to fly a bit more and in the meanwhile you can think about the offer and the Emperor may guide your choice."**_

Flavia said with a small nod and immediately felt the hug tighten a bit.

* * *

><p>"General Oraka, we are happy that you had time to follow our invitation, we hope you could shed more light on the demise of Spectre Zudar Paelane, while he always seemed very promising, the dedication with which he fulfilled his first and last mission is to be recognized."<p>

Nodding politely the old turian general leaned back into his seat, watching the illustrious round sitting with him around the table, all three councillors and a representative of the STG.

Taking his glass of water and sipping a bit he nods;

"Honoured councillors, even if I'm retired today I still gladly follow all your invitations, but in this case I have to say that I can hardly help you with your investigation, I'm owing my life to the spectre himself, not even thinking of my niece who was captured together with me. But thanks to my situation I had no direct contact with the Spectre myself, I could only conclude some things from the traces of fighting I saw when I escaped together with the three strange humans who freed us."

"General, we don't expect more from you than you can possibly know but…" Tevos started pleasantly only to be interrupted by Sparatus, who looked openly at his fellow turian;

"But everything you can remember might help us to reconstruct the happenings and might enable us to know who killed our Spectre."

"We also found a note of the dead Spectre in a communications buoy, we are also interested in the reactions of the Imperials." The salarian councillor added quickly.

Closing his eyes Oraka nodded.

"The way from the lift to the hangar had traces of heavy fighting, I could see five corpses on the way out, the wounds ranged from heavy cauterized wounds, most likely from some sort of self-made incendiary ammunition the Spectre used, to wounds made from some sort of blade which was able to pass through armour, flesh and bones, in one case decapitating a batarian, while it doesn't seem typical for a salarian but it must have been some sort of overpowered omni-blade. More curious were the remains in the hangar, alloys from the wall and floor were molten and only three bodies could be seen at the border of the scorched area, only some charred remains inside half melted weapons and armour, the Spectre must have been quite cold blooded to utilise such a horrifying weapon, most likely a bomb. The only other thing I can say is that we waited in the corvette for some time to let him rejoin us, but had to flee as the ship was broadcasting the warning that its core was going to overload and we had no other choice, I would presume that Spectre Paelane saw no other way and destroyed the ship to let us escape, an admirable sacrifice in the line of duty."

Councillor Tevos gave him a smile and refilled his glass with water again, before speaking herself:

"Thank you general, this mostly coincides with our own theories, of course we could have made a better guess if…"

"…the Spectres wouldn't have to buy their own weapons?" the STG representative quipped in amused.

"Maybe…" Tevos said with a small glare at him before turning back to the retired General:

"What I would also want to ask, how are the Imperials coping with it, you must have formed an opinion of them or?"

"The three strange humans? Quite a strange getup they wear but they freed me so I shouldn't badmouth them. They seemed to be quite happy staying under themselves, lots of praying the whole time, but they kind of grew attached to the young girl the batarians had also kidnapped and from what I've heard orphaned at the same time, but in regard of the Spectres death they seemed pretty fatalistic they just told me: "It's the God-Emperor's will", what for an Emperor are they referring to anyway?"

"That isn't of any importance for you General, but I take it that you mean the young Hailey Satterfield?" Sparatus asked his mandibles twitching in amusement.

"Indeed Councillor, but might you at least indulge me why you find that so funny?" Oraka asked with his own mandibles twitching as he leaned forward conspiratorially.

"I just thought that just calls for an involvement of our newest Councillor, I'm sure Anderson will be very busy trying to find out from which human colony they came from." Sparatus answered Tevos and Valern both thinking about it before nodding slightly, he wouldn't need to know how they arrived here, just that they are guests who the council owed a debt to.

Let's see how much fun he will have with three humans without any history in the Systems Alliance and a steady stream of funds to settle them on Cyrene, nicely outside of his reach.

* * *

><p><strong>For the Readers:<strong>

* * *

><p>A Random Reader: As said in the description; Faith alone can overturn the galaxy , but most likely not in barely 2 and a half years.<p>

Blinded in a Bolthole: *Reads the first part of the comment with growing confusion till it reaches the fenrisian wolves* ...yes? He was, is and will be.

Kinunatzs: Thanks and here you go

Jouaint: I think the first part was answered in the chapter above and as for Cerberus, I don't understand people who think they would fit together

eien samara: Thank you

Dukke: Thank you too and I will try

HappySticky: Another: Thank you!

Nagashazzier: Thanks

Emile-A239: But the Ministorum is busy organizing soldiers and weapons to fight the Imperiums wars. Let's see for the rest~

DeusImperator92: You are welcome

Lovin it: we will see...

SanShine: I will try not to disappoint

Reshogu: ... *quickly shakes head*

Broken Trident: It's a bit of a cheat...but I will try not to stress it and it served as a building up for the next chapter and their relations to the Alliance

Barbas Sephtis: Peace through superior firepower

Commissar Critical: *Looks at the name and hides behind desk, fearing a HERESY/BURN stamp, peeks up looking at the comment and faints in relief*


	5. The Foundations

"Who's the next? Is it the committee for the replanting of the presidium green areas, I swear if another hanar/elcor duo comes in again and whines for money I will-!"

Tiredly Captain…. now Councillor Anderson closed his eyes and willed himself to open them again, after getting dealt far too much work which includes staring for hours at paperwork, or at least at the holographic descendants of paperwork, which only used the progress in technology to multiply without control.

The last weeks since the battle of the Citadel and his "promotion" to the first Councillor of the human race by the recommendation of the first human spectre, a certain commander he would love to strangle right now as he looked at another data pad filled with complaints about the missing plumbing and power in the Zakera Ward.

"No Councillor, it's a group of...missionaries? Pardon, but they seem to be sent by Councillor Tevos, we went through their paperwork yesterday, a Hailey Satterfield, went into their care and will be the first member of their new orphanage.", his secretary remarked as he put another data pad in front of Anderson, who took it wearily and eyed the lines and his own signature wearily before nodding slightly and pointing at the door.

"Right….then send them in please"

As the door opened he followed the first thought that came to his mind, the first Councillor of humanity just stared at with his mouth wide open as the four visitors step into the room, all clad in long robes in white, except for the one with a staff with a…microphone? … on top who was wearing one in a red shade. As he slowly fought himself out of his stupor, trying to ignore the heavy golden trinkets which seemed to be some sort of obsession with these women, who seemed to adorn their clothes with them for some purpose, maybe only to impress everyone around them.

And quite impressive it was, with their ornate and most likely ceremonial clothing they were standing out compared to the other people in the waiting area of the presidium, who mostly opted for either light brown or grey plain working overalls or the more expensive suit and dresses, which might be a bit more colourful but not as gold laden as those four.

It might have been just more impressive if the obvious leader of the group, who was walking in the middle, wouldn't have been debating with a young girl, which he only recognized as Hailey Satterfield on the second glance.

It seemed she had fit in rather well with her three, what should one call them: governesses, Protectresses or maybe just plainly teachers?

Anyway; he had to make his assistant check his translator again, it must be malfunctioning as he couldn't understand a word from the conversation between teacher and student and no matter how hard he tried to concentrate he couldn't quite place the tone of the language anywhere on the globe, some nuances sounding eastern while others feel gruff enough to be from a roman language, but what was easy to notice was the slightly uncertain way the girl was speaking it, meaning that it must be the native language of her guardians so he made himself a small note to look up their files later as he leaned into his chair and listened.

**"But Flav-…missionary….it's a dress"**, Hailey whined around as her hands fidgeted over the light white robe she had to wear for this occasion, which reached down to her feet while the sleeve hung over her hands, only a silver Aquila around her neck reminding the onlooker of her guardians rather pompous jewellery.

**"It's not a dress Hailey, it's a still rather plain robe and if you find this uncomfortable you should be glad we are out of contact with the Ecclesiarchy, even a future progenium should show more respect when meeting the most important human in this sector, just as if he would at least be an honored planetary governor."**, the missionary admonished her charge a bit tired from the discussion and their inescapability when travelling so slowly in these lifts the xenos seemed to prefer and it just wasn't advisable to break the girls spirit right now to rebuild it, that still had to wait for the building of the schola if it was really needed, she showed…

**"You know, why do I have to come with you, this will be so boring, can't you tell me of Him again, you were just telling me how the Emperor was watching over humanity when…"**

….showed great interest into the Imperial history. While the growing awe of hers, when hearing the God-Emperors glorious and holy deeds, was certainly approved by Flavia, her lack of discipline was quite irritating at times, but at least her devotion at her daily prayers with her was growing, just as her fluency in High Gothic.

**"Be quiet child, while you can certainly never know enough of His blessed creations and the way His wisdom has guided and lead humanity forward through the ages, you shouldn't keep important men waiting, as to make a man wait pointlessly is just as sinful as obstructing his work directly."**

Seeing the girl nod the missionary let a weary sigh escape her, it must have been at least forty years since she last visited a schola progenium before being sent out on her holy mission again, it wasn't like she couldn't remember her lessons on the administration of a schola anymore, it was just so long ago that she just never expected to bring them to use.

As she banished her idle thoughts she stopped before the desk of the local Governor of the humans, giving him a respectful bow and the sign of the Imperial Aquila as a greeting, while Sister Marina started to translate simultaneously.

_**"Greetings to you Lord Anderson, we are most honoured to have gained an audience with you and hope that He will watch over our meeting benevolently."**_

As she straightened up again, a small smile played over her lips, for once it was an honest one, having taken a small glance at the human Councillor had proven the talks she had heard on-board of the xeno construct as true, sitting before her was a soldier who only reluctantly seemed to shift into the patterns of an adept shuffling reports and numbers around.

Anderson for his part was slightly puzzled and amused at the same time, just where did Tevos find these three? Did she stumble over some Christian splinter group on an independent colony? While the motifs didn't really fit, eagles and skulls instead of the cross but only slightly more morbid than a torture device, the way they talked and dressed reminded him of some historical movies he once watched about the middle ages.

The leather sheaths with swords hanging from their hips did rather promote the parallel and made him think of this academy sword which lay around somewhere and gathered rust.

But who knows what the Asari was thinking, maybe this group was from a sect which has forsaken technology to keep their planet clean or some who tried to find common cultural foundations between the different races, birds of prey and skulls weren't that uncommon after all, everyone even the krogans used them as symbols. Maybe not everyone Anderson slowly concluded, the hanar surely didn't have any skulls to use as motif, but is generally a wide spread form of expressing that everyone would be the same in death…but maybe this whole politics were getting to his head and he was inventing reasons to keep calm.

With the thought: at least they might be more interesting than the replanting committee, he nodded politely and replied:

"It's a pleasure to meet you too Missionary Sophana, Councillor Tevos recommended you quite warmly in her letter to me and told me of your noble endeavour to help the independent colonists in the Traverse, but you don't need to call me Lord or anything, I'm just a Councillor, a regularly newly appointed position."

Ending his introduction with the polite correction of the archaic title she somehow seemed to have come up with, he tried to give them a smile and gestured at the chairs across of his desk.

Seeing the other two women and the girl look at the missionary for a moment before getting a nod in return and moving towards the seats he relaxed a bit as he waited for them to tell him their proposal or, more likely, their request.

_**"Councillor, your colleague Tevos…"**_, he noted she seemed to hesitate bringing the asari's name up, such modesty was quite a change from everyone else who would have flaunted having meet one of the councillors privately_** "…has recommended us to pay a visit to you to ask for your help with the construction of our schola."**_

"I'm sorry, but I might not understand what help you might need, from what I saw the funds the council gave you are well above anything you might need to…", Anderson started with a small frown as he suspected they wanted to leech even more money before beginning anything.

_**"Oh that's not the problem Councillor, the funds are quite generous but we are just finding no suitable company to take over the building of the schola itself."**_ Flavia replied simply.

"That's hard to imagine…I'm sure there are quite enough companies which produce prefabricated containers and modules to house more than enough possible students and while space on Cyrene is a bit short with the need to build Domes to create a sufficient atmosphere, you surely could… "

_**"Councillor.**_", the missionary interrupted him briskly and with vehemence in her tone

_**"We cannot build a schola, a place dedicated to the God-Emperor, not only through the chapel which is part of it, but through the mind set and ideas the progenium will be taught. They shall get the best education we can offer and shall be raised in the Ideals of the Imperium for the glory of the Emperor and the welfare of humanity. I just cannot allow the schola to be build from…from…card boxes! The walls of a blessed building dedicated to the deity of Mankind should be blazing like the faith in our hearts and as unyielding as our courage with which the Emperor has gifted us. We have already ordered the building of a new dome for our purposes Councillor, we have just hoped you could point us towards someone who builds a bit more….durable and personalized."**_

Sophana ended, with her tone becoming calmer again at the end, her eyes bearing down at the Councillor with the righteous fire a member of the Ecclesiarchy builds up in their years of devotion to the God-Emperor of Mankind.

"I see…" Anderson muttered, not sure if he really did,

It wasn't that much what the woman had just said, to him it was only some religious oddities being expressed in the architecture, which wasn't that uncommon. What was perplexing him more was her tone, the sheer conviction with which she had talked about God, or the Emperor as they seemed to title them.

He wasn't a stranger to one or another religion but to be honest most of them were very watered down or were sickly since the discovery of the protean archive and the resulting knowledge about alien life. In school and in his time as an officer candidate he had to attend a few discussion or forums in which the priests major religions meet and talked about themselves and each other, always about how they weren't that different and were peacefully coexisting with each one being one part of the whole truth and with each facets being a rich addition and so on and so forth. But compared till now he didn't notice there was one thing missing: certainty, none of them had the same certainty as this woman before him, who was utterly and adamant with her belief and he just couldn't imagine her sitting in such a discussion nodding pleasantly to just everything anyone else said.

He didn't know just why the other councillors had given up these funds so readily, but no matter why; there could have been worse choices.

Just one part was sending just the wrong feelings, reminding him far too much of a certain terrorist group, making him echo them:

"…the welfare of humanity?...just humanity, not of the asari, the turians, the salarians and the other aliens?"

Whatever it was, the three women mostly found it hilarious as they started to laugh as soon as the red-robed one translated it for them. The councillor and Hailey could only watch them puzzled; as the missionary slowly got her bearings back and answered with a smile:

_**"You shouldn't worry about them Councillor, the Emperor has a place and plan for everyone, it's just common to preach it to other humans as the xenos tend to remain less….enthusiastic when one tries to make them believe in the God-Emperors sacred cause…"**_, her smile depended as she looked at him deeply amused and continued untranslated; **"…we just haven't found a way to make the xenos cleanse themselves for us."**

As he didn't get the last words and the young Miss Satterfield didn't seem any wiser than him it must surely have been some religious set phrase so he just nodded slightly, as it made quite sense…and the hanar could most likely tell you a thing or two about missionary work without results. Leaning slightly backwards into his chair again he gave them a quick glance before reaching for his omni-tool and calling up the contacts for the building company which constructed shelters and semi-military structures on colonies, giving their "schola" the permission to use these services for the stonework and glasses needed in the construction.

"I see, then it calms me down quite a bit as you surely have heard of the organization Cerberus, more organizations with the Agenda of human supremacy above other species would be quite worrying. But regarding your problems, I have given you permission for the use of more resistant materials. They are usually used for the shelters in colonies or for their militias but as you are heading out into independent space and are of interest to my fellow councillors the additional security should be appreciated and maybe a bit of extra funding to the structures could be made available. I hope this was everything you needed and I can say that I'm wishing you fruitful endeavours with your orphanage, have a nice day."

_**"You have our thanks then Lord Anderson, we are sure you must be occupied with the more pressing matters of the Abominable Intelligence named Geth and…"**_, Flavia quickly raised her hand as Anderson tried to deny the title from his position, silencing him with a smile _**"…while your position might seem only temporary right now I have seen similar men starting a hereditary tradition in their offices, if we would be able to provide the full spectrum of His most faithful Adeptus Sororitas, the Order Fabulous would surely have found a suitable wife for a man of your standings…"**_, while Anderson gaped at her, she only gave him the same respectful bow as when she entered, her robe shuffling over the smooth floor as she exited followed by her entourage the girl openly laughing as the door closed again.

**"Should I look into the matter missionary, I'm sure if you give me enough time to initiate a girl in the Imperial Creed we can marry them in the next four to five…"**, Sister Marie started as soon as they stepped into the lounge of the embassy district, curious glances being thrown at them with every step, only to be silenced as the missionary shook her head.

**"He won't be in office much longer anyway Sister Marie, it's regrettable but…"**

**"Why won't he? I mean Captain Anderson is like a big hero or something like Commander Shepard too, isn't he?"**, Hailey interposed from the side of Flavia, who frowned a bit at this but shook her head **"Hailey, he's a soldier. You haven't seen the other councillors yet but they just won't get along for a long period of time, either this or he himself will resign from his post, he didn't seem very content with his work so most likely he will want to be back "doing" something instead of writing papers all day like a scribe."**

**"So we won't have to go to him again? And I won't need to wear this annoying dress again?"**

Hailey asked hope filled, clinging to the parts which were more pressing for her.

Sighing the missionary nodded and patted the girls head softly;

**"You won't….you should go to our hotel with Sister Marie, Sister Marina and I are going to see the clothing store and see to get some basic uniforms and hats for you and your future comrades…and it will be no dress, you will have to do a lot of athletics in it."**

* * *

><p>"It won't rain in the dome; they are unneeded and or only adding costs for the buildings."<p>

Grayson Junior from the Grayson Building and Construction company exclaimed exasperatedly as he stared at the monstrosity of a plan which covered his desk, drawn on paper, real paper of all things, drawn by hand as the madwoman assured him, was a construction plan which seemed to have jumped directly out of the brain of a medieval cathedral architect on drugs; myriads of columns and archways adorning the sides of every building with things, tall columns and sloped roofings soaring high on the sides of the central building which seemed to be the church, while four courtyards encompassed this church which was right in the middle extending into both of the inner yards which closed around it and had two side yards on the their own sides which gave the whole construction the rough sight of a cross from the top down, with a hundred and thirty meter high tower in the middle, which was on top of the centre of the church.

_**"They are tradition; we won't change them just because of your whining",**_ missionary Sophana replied hotly while she stared down at the plan sister Marina had drawn from the memory she had of other scholas she had visited in the past, the chance to build themselves a bit of Imperium far away from it.

"But…why? I mean, I think I got that you plan to build it as close as possible to the gothic architecture of the medieval ages, even if a more modern approach would be far cheaper in production, but can't you just save a bit of…", Grayson Junior protested quickly, while he wouldn't mind all this money going to them for the construction he still had his duty to inform each costumer of the most efficient way things could be done and he honestly thought this woman to be mad with their archaic ideas and design whenever he looked at the plan, not to forget all these skulls which should be built into nearly every niche.

_**"No, we won't insult the Emperor by letting His holy ground be built-up with flimsy boxes and the lifeless glass and steel you seem to prefer for everything. We will neither change the style nor will we abstain from adorning the sides of the buildings with the fearsome gargoyles and the awe inspiring statues of the Saints."**_, the missionary said with vehemence her bionic eye glaring balefully at the man, her hand tracing slowly over the sides of the roofing which were adorned by large gargoyles while the archways gave enough space for the statues of saints or primarchs to look down watchfully at the progenium in the courtyards.

Fidgeting nervously under the glare Grayson Junior finally relented the point and looked back down at the plan, his fingertip coming to a stop at the cross-section showing the interior of the church, with its tall supporting columns and the rows of benches in two floors and with the pulpit next to the large window which took most of the wall at the back of the church.

"Here, if you use the first floor outside to put statues into them instead of windows you will lack light in the sides of the room, then we would have to lay out cables in the walls to give more electrical light for… "

He didn't came much further in his explanation as the missionaries gloved hand pointed at two small drawings on the plan, simply saying; _**"Candlesticks"**_

Looking at her with the faint suspicion that she was indeed mad Grayson Junior gaped "Candles? That would be the most primitive…and cost intensive…and work intensive way you can solve the problem." he muttered as he looked down at the drawing of them.

Shaking her head the missionary crossed her arms looking down at him;

_**"Maybe if you wouldn't be all about comfort and making things easy you wouldn't make people's life in card boxes or xeno architecture. Even our buildings should honour tradition and the history of humanity reminding one of their own strength and ideas."**_

Looking away from her glare Grayson Junior stared down at the plan;

"Even…even if there's something true about that; candles? You need to light them up every few hours or every day if you buy long burning ones, not to forget the soot and grime which will start to gather at the ceiling, I mean who should clean…",

He didn't get much further with these doubts as the missionary interrupted him once again:

_**"The progena will do that, it's a very character building work to clean the church while reciting prayers and litanies for Him, good for learning humbleness and modesty."**_

Seeing that there would be no relenting in this point his eyes swept further over the monstrous plan and finally came to a stop over the dormitories, his finger pointing at the layout of a single room; "Here; why four persons per room? We could easily make more rooms in other parts of the building and let them have two person rooms, if we for example take this room and…"

_**"These are the common showers, I fear to have to remind you that people tend to wash themselves after a time and four progena in fifty rooms are just the number we want, two hundred will be a decent number."**_, Flavia said, a slight annoyance showing in her tone, not being used to clerks like him scrutinize her decisions or at least not so open and even then not a second time the moment it came to the local confessor's notice.

"If you insist…but what about these buildings? I can see that one supplies the room for you and the other teachers and this one is filled with classrooms, but what about these two? They are empty and only have big gates, water and electricity?" he asked, pointing at the two buildings which formed together with some kind of gatehouse the longer part of the cross shaped complex.

_**"These two are the warehouse and the stable for the schola."**_ Sophana replied as if having a stable on a moon was the most natural thing in the world.

"Stable? Wait…I…don't even want to ask…tradition?" Grayson Junior muttered as he holds his head, a headache forming behind his forehead.

_**"Indeed."**_, was the simple reply, accompanied with a smug look as if he was some kind of puppy which had finally learned to do a trick.

"As it is, I do not think my consulting is helping you in any kind as you are already… very certain about your plans." he chose to word their stubbornness regarding totally unneeded and archaic things politely. Carefully rolling the paper together again he put it aside and instead opened the contract for it on his omni-tool sending it to the red robed woman who seemed to be translator and administrator. Before using his best award winning smile again and sending the bill and the information regarding the construction to them, only having to wait a second as the Councils VI's reviewed the order and then transferred the credits.

"A pleasure to do business with you."

He announced with another smile as he stood up and walked to the door opening it for them,

the sooner he got away from these religious nutcases the better for his prolonged sanity.

"We will start with the construction immediately after the building site is accessible in less than fully insulated suits for vacuum works."

_**"That's acceptable."**_ came the curt reply as they walked out of his office, leaving Grayson Junior in his seat, massaging his forehead as he stared down at the plan.

* * *

><p>The sounds of small sobs rouse Missionary Sophana out of her sleep, as she slowly opened her eye, quickly taking in the surroundings as her hand slipped to the grip of her pistol which was lying next to her on the bed. Her bionic eye activated its enhanced visible spectrum a jolt leaping through her nerves as the change into a tinted green, gathering the small scraps of light leaking into the room even in the middle of the night cycle, just a moment before two red and yellow forms flamed up in the neighbouring room indicating two Adeptus Sororitas who were using the night for a mixture of sleep and meditation, kneeling on their beds and whispering litanies for the Emperor.<p>

Carefully slipping out of her bed, her bionic eye swivelled to the side towards the second bed in her room, which was part of an apartment they were given for their stay, showing the orange silhouette of a small body trembling in its sleep. Putting her laspistol back on the nightstand, she stepped closer, a small wincing visible as her bionic eye returned back to the normal human sight, and reached out touching Hailey's shoulder gently, which only made the girl flinch in her sleep and the sobbing continue.

**"What to do…"** Murmured Flavia as she contemplated how to girls grief should be used best;

Should she deepen it? Making the girl forlorn and without direction before moulding her anew? No, this tactic would have been risky enough as those without direction easily fall prey to the foul machination of the Archenemy and while a few suicides from Progeniums were acceptable in the Imperium and only showed that they were unsuited to serve in His blessed forces, here there might be authorities throwing a fuss for just one dead child, or at least as long as this child wasn't killed or enslaved by a xeno.

Inserting the right fear before the Emperor and his servants above her would also be less than ideal right now, at least as long as they weren't in the stable and organized surroundings of a schola. Choosing a third way she carefully slipped into the girl's bed and wrapped her arms around the trembling child, just using the moment to hold her close as she Hailey whimpered in her sleep, wet tears rolling over her cheeks and smearing against Flavia.

Never having had any children herself but having seen them often enough in the living areas the bustling bellies of every Imperial ship housed and in the stone and wood built villages and keeps of feudal words she visited to spread His Name, she had a rough idea on how to proceed from here, trying to make small cooing noises in hope they might be soothing for Hailey. And, Emperor be thanked, it seemed to work as the sobs grow silent and the girl seemed to shift in her sleep, cuddling closer to the missionary who was stroking Hailey's brown hair softly, while looking at her face.

The normal reaction would be to cry out in fear; at least Hailey thought so as she stirred from her sleep and her eyes were blinking slowly as she forced them open, feeling the soreness which came from crying in them and stared into a red burning circle.

Others might have thought of a monster from their nightmares but Hailey thought herself to be a bit too old for silly monsters hiding under beds and closets and she knew what real monsters were, since the day her parents…

A small sob escaped her as she thought of them or the lack of thought she had given them after meeting the missionary and the two Sisters, as everyday here on the citadel seemed to be filled with things to see and things to do, making her look at everything in awe as she was trailing behind the group of Imperials as some had called them.

While she kind of appreciated this, it always left her alone in her bed at the end of the day her thoughts straying back towards the raid on their shuttle and the way her parents had died not because of any reason other than mere bad luck, their deaths being laughed upon by the batarian pirates, as they stepped through the busted airlock and stepped over the parts which were once... the thought alone made her unwell and another series of sobs erupted from within her.

Suddenly a hand touched her hair and she tensed involuntarily before remembering just who it could only be, her sadness yielding to surprise for a moment as she couldn't remember either one of the Sisters nor the missionary herself touching anyone without a real need, not even handshakes being part of their greetings, instead a bow seemed to suffice for everything.

But as it was she leaned against the hand which started to stroke her hair gently and she relaxed slightly as she leaned against the missionary, not minding that only a few weeks ago she wouldn't even have done this with her mother because it would be to childish.

Right now she wouldn't have minded the fuzz her mother always made around her, the way her father always worried about her when she went out and how both always seemed to forget she was already fourteen and not a little child anymore, as long as she could get them back.

But she knew that wasn't possible and she cried, sobbed and trembled freely for the first time in the last two weeks her head rested against Flavia and her body held by the missionary, as she cried out her anguish. After some time, she didn't know just how long she had continued to cry like this, the burning red eye moved slightly and a hand trailed over her cheeks, wiping the tears off it as Flavia's voice, surprisingly gentle, could be heard:

**"A Saint once said: "Do not waste your tears. I was not born to watch the world grow dim. Life is not measured in years but by the deeds of men." Dry your tears child and rejoice;**

**then your parents have found their way to the Golden Throne, were they might sit next to Him till the end of days,**

**rejoice because He has given you the greatest gift for Humanity,**

**rejoice because we offer you the way of duty, work and death which will show you no respite and will enable you to punish those responsible for your parents death."**

The words were reverberating strangely inside of Hailey, what was there to rejoice? The Missionary and the Sisters might be nice enough in a strange distant sort of way, but they weren't her parents and as so far she couldn't see what the God-Emperor, something which was intriguing and confusing at the same time, would have given her.

Without an own idea she did the easy thing; she asked:

**"What's the Emperor's greatest gift to humanity?"**

**"Hatred, then while he gives us Intolerance and Zeal to fight against the enemy in our own chest: the enemy within, the Emperor has given us hate for those enemies you can fight and cleanse with sword and flamer."** was the convicted reply.

Involuntarily her memory seemed to flash back, back to laughing pirates who stepped over the puddles which were once her parents, how they had ridiculed them and then her as she started to cry, the way the other aliens, the asari and the turians had done nothing as she was kicked and dragged through the ship and without really noticing a small sentence slip from her lips: "**Abhor the xeno, as they are wicked and do not care for human lives."**

She looked up, staring into the smoldering red glow of the bionic,

the memories of the first time she had stared into them like this rising up in her mind as she found herself once again in the hallway of the batarian frigate, the floor littered with the parts of the xenos which had laughed about the fate of her parents just days ago, her hand reaching out and touching the severed head and helmet of one of them, her mind seeing that it wasn't a dream, that she was rescued, that her parents were avenged that….she took the missionaries hand. She took the missionaries hand and squeezed it as she looked up with the gathered hatred she felt against her captors, against those xenos which had just looked at her without helping only caring about their own, the feeling she harboured against the Councillors she had met with the missionaries, who sat in their comfy offices and never did anything against the pirates in their whole history.

**"Fortune favours the faithful."** Missionary Sophana whispered pleased as she looked at the determination on the young girls face, the hurt and the urge to hit back against those who had hurt her, it might not be much, but it will be a start.

And here she was holding one girl which had tasted the wickedness, the cruelty but also the corruption and decadence of the xenos first hand and was developing just fine to be indoctrinated in the Imperial Creed, one girl out of thousands of children which have lost family and more in this Traverse or to the lawless from the Traverse.

Fortune was favouring her.

* * *

><p>Officer D'roneus smiled slightly as she piloted the shuttle towards the mass relay; it wasn't every day that the Council called a C-Sec officer for something instead of the spectres.<p>

And normally she would be quite nervous about the whole thing but at the beginning of the meeting it quickly became clear that Marie must have mentioned her positively and because of this she was chosen to fly the requested "supplies" towards their building site on Cyrene.

She had to giggle at how undignified the "supplies" would react at the description, as everything they were doing at the moment was discussing scientific theories and modern educational methods they wanted to try with the bountiful funds they were promised.

So while she didn't care about school much herself, having gone the usual few years as a stripper after it in the beginning of her maiden time, she thought it was quite an achievement of Marie's employer or superior, she wasn't quite sure were the missionary fit in, to get a core of teachers to leave the safe alliance space and work on a small moon with a population not even exceeding five thousand.

But at least Cyrene seemed to be a busy planet, working as a transit station between the Titan Nebula and the Terminus System, which made it one of the semi-safe colonies as even the raiders needed it if they wanted to gain and sell goods form Citadel space and the other way around.

A nice transport mission and a few days to check on the Imperials as the Council asked her to do, let everyone else risk their necks and go and play politics.

While C-sec was trying to get as much personnel in it as possible, even if it is human, and the illustrious Commander Shepard was off hunting the Geth and their outposts,

let Lenostia D'roneus have some paid vacation.

And while she didn't tell anyone a thing she was still pretty sure these three weren't humans, maybe it was just a feeling but she felt a strange kind of thrill as she thought about it and Marie wasn't that bad on the eye either…

Smiling at the thought and the sounds of heated discussion from the passenger cabin she leaned back into her seat as the mass relay shot them towards their destination;

"This is going to be fun~"

* * *

><p>To my readers, is it just me, or did the document reset? Missing all bolt letters, lines and my answers to your comments?<p> 


	6. Hail the Emperor!

The toll of the great bell woke her up and quickly her eyes opened fully as her body was already swinging itself out of the bed and reached for her clock: 4:53am…perfect.

Blinking a few times to get the dryness out of her eyes she looked around, her gaze taking in the undecorated grey walls which encompassed her room.

If she would have compared it to her old room on Ferries Fields, she could have shown disappointment, missing the bright and colourful posters as well as her green wallpaper, but right now it was more of a clean cut and a welcome one as well.

The silver Aquila hanging over the door, modelled by Sister Marina who showed deep understanding in building and designing the schola; its open eye reminding her of the eternal vigilance the Emperor was showing to all of humanity.

Vigilance, the word resonating in her mind she walked over to the cabinet, which was, except from her bed and a small table with a chair, the only furniture she owned, and opened it, exposing four sets of clothing to the eye.

While the last one was the same white robe she had worn when meeting Councillor Anderson, now hanging more or less unused in a corner while grey was dominating the rest of it;

Draped on three clothes hangers were a pair of pants, a shirt and a uniform jacket, with a double row of silver buttons adorned by the Imperial Aquila, which reached down to the middle of her thighs if worn, all in a dark grey and for the everyday use. While those were issued as standard to her and her one hundred and ninety nine fellow Progena the three additional pieces in her cabinet were those, which filled her with pride every time she saw them, not because of vanity but as a sign of the trust she had earned:

Hailey Satterfield, Progena of the Schola Cyrene.

The signs of this path were the steel skull which adorned the front of her peaked cap, instead of the barren grey everyone else wore, as well as her greatcoat in a darker grey cloth which is double breasted, but usually left open by her to show the final piece of her uniform;

A blue sash wrapped around her waist, long enough to go twice around her waist; it was knotted on the right side, while a pair of tassels dangled down on the left, just below the short leather belts which are used to be fastened to her scabbard.

Her scabbard, at the thought she glanced up to the wall, a wooden mounting above her bed the only other decoration and holding her most precious possession; a sabre with a black leather sheath. She didn't wield it, the only times she had touched it was when she had accepted it and when she mounted it on her wall, taking it as a reminder of her new path, having promised herself to only wield it when she graduated from the Schola, then as Missionary Sophana taught her:

**"The spirit is like steel, it has to be tempered by faith before it becomes unbreakable, for those firm in their belief to Him will always overcome those with weak resolve, no matter how hard their bunkers and how large their guns will be."**

The months since their departure from the citadel weren't easy ones, Hailey wasn't a stranger to physical labour and workout but the program Sister Marie had started for her was just something else; her days seemingly continued thought training, running, lifting materials on the building site before getting her ass regularly handed to her by one of her three guardians in what they called: combat training.

Mostly it consisted of her getting a knife or sword, not a wooden or training one but a real one, getting told to attack her opponent only for her to land on the floor minutes later quite painfully, her hurt pride about being unable to land any blow recovered slightly when she found out that all three of them were much older than they looked and had decades or even more than a century in Sister Marie's case to hone their skills.

It might have also helped her slightly to see how a construction worker who tried to make a pass on Sister Marie was lifted nearly effortlessly at the scruff by her, before sailing out of the window…it was only the second floor; he came out of hospital a week later.

And when she didn't get thrashed she ended up with the missionary, which was quite enjoyable when she only had to sit down and listen to the tales of a faraway Imperium and while her initial awe and curiosity slowly faltered, the long and bloody history of Heresy and rebellions slowly drowning all hope one could have found in it, she slowly but certainly learned just how great the Emperor truly was.

He wasn't a distant mythological being like in the religions from the Systems Alliance earth,

not a god which changed to human whim and fancy; HE was the true God-Emperor, reigning over a million words even in his grievously wounded state after the Horus Heresy,

An act so vile that at first she couldn't understand what might have lead half of the Emperors own sons and the Astartes, the mightiest of human warriors against Him and in siege against holy Terra itself.

But the loyalists had won by His divine grace and He showed His greatness by ascending on the Golden Throne for the sake of humanity, ending the age in which He walked between man and lead them personally and ascended to His full Godhood and even after ten thousand years the mighty Armies and fleets of the Imperium are guided by His glorious light to the farthest corners of the Galaxy.

Certainly not a tale of the whimsical hope and forgiveness she had heard preached so many times before meeting the missionary; should she be content in hope her parents would have reached a better afterlife? Should she forgive the batarian slavers for their deeds?

With His guidance it became clear; abhor the alien and give your life to protect humanity, hate the alien and let hate guide your hand to cleanse them, let no other children experience their parents and no other human loved ones taken away.

With this thoughts she reached for the baton she was currently allowed to use instead of a sword and fastened it to her belt, before reaching out for her jacket and pulling it on together with the rest of her uniform, at last donning the heavy coat to which warmth she had slowly grown used to before she opened the door of her room and strode into the hallway.

Looking at each unopened door before gazing up at the clock which hung visibly from all directions from the ceiling, she turned at the end of the hallway and went down the stairs, as she rounded the corners nearly bumping another person who was using the moment to come up, stepping aside quickly she recognized the person:

"Heinrich? What are you doing here so early?", she asked slowly, her hand sneaking down to the baton as she waited for his answer, ready to discipline him if he tried to sneak out into the settlement as others have tried before, not that anyone was successful in that.

Instead of an answer his raised his hands, showing her the book he was holding; reading the title slowly Hailey nodded approvingly;

**"The Book of Judgement?"**

Shuffling nervously as his eyes went down to her baton he gulped:

"Yes…it's quite fascinating…the **Lex Imperialis**…some of the laws are…more than ten thousand years old it says…if only…", growing silent he shook his head and Hailey had to mind to stay silent and nodded only slightly.

Of course she had gotten a look at everyone's paperwork for disciplinary purposes so she already knew just why everyone ended up here and in Heinrich's case it was thanks to his parents working for Eclipse on a mining station at a time before their contract was terminated…and both of them as well.

"Don't think about "if onlys" Heinrich. But you should head for the dining hall, as I would say that the rest of our fellow Progena need a small reminder of why it's important to abide to the set timetables."

Nodding slightly with a bit of relief showing on his young face, being only thirteen he still towered above most of the other Progena, including Hailey to her own chagrin, but seemed to have been one of the most silent and meek boys as well, finding much more enjoyment in the hours of reading and the sermons which were being held in the newly constructed chapel.

Nodding to the side she let him pass before resuming her way downstairs she tried to remember the first few points on today's program:

5am: breakfast and followed by a small prayer before and after the meal,

6am: Sister Marie was expecting her and group C at the stables for some help.

7am: she had to accompany work group D into the Chapel and oversee the cleaning.

8am: her inspection and readiness for the arrival of the new teachers.

8:30am: parade ground readiness.

8:45am: The Missionary's inspection.

9am: Arrival of the new teachers: best behaviour.

It was 4:58am and till now she hasn't seen anyone else expect from Heinrich yet, so it was time to give them a reminder why Imperial authority is absolute even if it only came down to the time for the breakfast.

Arriving in the first underground floor she reached for her lanyard and unlocked the door to the water control room, pushing the heavy steel door open and walking towards a small locker. Opening and gazing at the small valves and the overlay monitor, she reached for some buttons and was rewarded with a blinking red interface.

Hailey only had to wait some moments until the first shocked cries came down the stairs as the sprinklers started to work in every room of the dormitory and the late sleepers scrambled out of their growingly wet beds under protest.

Counting to ten with her fingertips drumming on the hilt of her baton, Hailey nodded to herself as the first ones started hitting against the doors which she had locked as well. Looking on her clock she waited for two minutes; the cries and sounds of beats against the doors not subsiding as she finally choose to walk upstairs again, giving Heinrich, who looked at her shocked, a small friendly nod. Before walking down the dormitory's first floor hallway; touching an unlocking button next to each door, various boys and girls of her age falling down and onto the floor as the door they just pounded against opened all of a sudden.

With an amused look she noticed the angry glares…of completely soaked Progena, whose hair were clinging to their faces and their clothes, which were wet to the last thread.

With faint surprise she saw one of them, John, if she remembered correctly bellowing an angry yell as he charged at her.

Yes, John May, parents were Mercs and grew up on Omega…a bully.

With a fluent movement, speaking of the countless hours Sister Marie had wrought her through hand to hand and close combat drill, she had her baton out and only had to step slightly to the side to let him run into the head of it, which started to dance with electricity, promptly finding its closest way towards the wet boy.

Collapsing on the floor as the energy unloaded into him, non-lethal but not harmless, John wriggled on the floor in pain as his limbs flayed around without purpose, his face contorting to a mask of pain as his cries filled the hallway.

Looking up from the fool, who was now sobbing in a foetal position, Hailey noticed the silence which had enveloped the hallways, fearful eyes looking at her.

"I believe you are getting late for breakfast.", she simply told the white faced onlookers, nodding her head approvingly as they scrambled back into their rooms and the sound of lockers opening and grumbling children donning on their uniforms could be heard.

Her gaze shifting back to the whimpering mess in the middle of the floor, she strode towards his room pushing the door open, not minding the three boys in various stages of undress as she pointed at two of them:

"Adam, Tom, get this Emperor Forsaken fool out of the way, it's your responsibility to get him to breakfast and hold him upright at the presentation understood?"

The two boys, both taller than her nodded quickly their eyes drawn to the still activated baton in her hand, which sparked menacingly from time to time.

Hailey's eyes narrowed as she heard silent laughter from behind those two, stepping forward and pushing those two out of her way she pointed her glare at Michael, who was the fourth Progena living in the shared room.

"You find this funny Michael? As this is so amusing to you, you are going to get yourself a bucket and a mop.", Hailey said with a pointed glare, before turning around, only to stop at the threshold of the room as Michael looked at her flabbergasted: "Why?"

With a smile, which bore no amusement or other happy thoughts she pointed at John who was still convulsing on the ground, his pants getting wet and his throat gasping raspy for breath:

"I might have accidently…", her tone showed it was certainly not accidently; "…shocked poor John with enough electricity to make his muscles uncontrollable for some time…both those on top and at the bottom of him, so get ready to wash the mess away."

Giving him a friendly nod, or at least something that looked like this, she stepped outside of the room and gave John a small kick to nudge him between the door, before striding towards the stairway and the second batch of Progena she had to get out of their wet rooms, but didn`t the missionary tell her: "It doesn´t matter if they hate you, just as long as they obey."

* * *

><p>Finally having gathered and shooed the nearly two hundred Progena, of which most were intelligent enough not to attack her, at least as long as you don`t count the attempts of burning holes into her with glares alone, towards the dining hall, Hailey allowed herself to smile genuinely for a moment as they wandered through the corridors which connected the dormitories with the dining hall. Others in her place might have found the dark colour depressing, would have been put off by the hard and blocky architecture deployed at the inside and outside of the building and of course she knew that some of the Progena were getting nightmares from the amount of skull motifs embedded into the walls and archways of the schola, the dark rings under their eyes easily visible.<p>

She had to do something; their continued sleeplessness was affecting the overall performance of their training squads negatively.

Finally they arrived at the entrance, the streams of Progena from both dormitory buildings merging as they stepped towards the door, then the dining hall was the central meeting point for the Progena and rally point of those in that part of the school should an alert be triggered.

Thanks to the second task which it had to serve the entrance might be called…particular, while the great portal, nearly 4 meters wide and 5 meters high, was impressive on its own, the walls around were not only made by the same bunker grade concrete as the rest of the schola but also equipped with slits to enable fire from the two rooms, which were integrated to the wall at both sides of the gate, a mobile facade covering it as long as the alarm wasn`t sounded.

Even as the Progena strode through the doors of centimetre thick armor and made their way to their tables, the dual nature of the whole building didn`t stop then while at one hand the walls and arching ceiling stayed fairly ornamented and highly archaic, with candlesticks being need to get lit in some areas to get sufficient light, elements of the architecture, columns, niches and even the highly resistant materials the tables were built from, were forming plentiful defensive covers, which would enable a defender to pick off the attackers from the door with relative ease.

Paying not much mind to the various positions, having long since memorized them good enough to jump from one cover to another in her sleep, Hailey strode towards the head table stopping just in front of it and bowing, with her hands forming the sign of the Aquila before the missionary and the two Sororitas, who give her a short nod and the Aquila in return, only the missionary looking at her with a small smile and faint mirth in her eyes:

**"I presume you know why nearly one hundred ninety eight Progena, are dripping water on the ground we sanctified to Him?"**, Flavia said, her voice getting carried over the heads of the children, the chatter ceasing from one moment to another, nearly two hundred heads turning to her direction.

**"Just a bit of help to get them out of their bed, to witness the daily prayers for breakfast missionary. There were no other problems."** the nervous drumming of her fingers against the batons hilt and the battered state of Progena John Matthews and the green colour of Michael Fletchers face not really making her claim much more believable.

Nonetheless the missionary only smiled pleasantly and gave her an inviting wave to her place at their table; it was going to be good training for her future path, one way or another.

Waiting for the girl to be seated, Flavia Sophana stood up and raised her hands to get everyone's attention, with nearly no delay everyone was silent and looking up to her, before Hailey or Sister Marie might think otherwise.

Letting her gaze shift over the whole assembly, Flavia started to talk, her calm but strong voice soon resonating and filling the whole room.

**"I know that some of you are still heathens, that you have not yet found your faith to the Emperor and that you are whimpering under the burden He has chosen us to bear.**

**But while you are still being formed into the shape He intends for all of you to reach, you need to remember a common bond between all of us: we have lost beloved ones.**

**While your lose seems fresh and grief chokes on you, the Sisters have used it to temper their own faith, before setting out to do His holy work, losing comrades and friends in the struggle against His most vile enemies, but have those two broken? They have not!**

**I'm asking you, all of you to see this as the opportunity,**

**The opportunities to do His will, the chance to bear His light and illuminate the Galaxy.**

**You will get training and you will get arms unlike any other in this part of the universe, you will endure and you will flourish, you are chosen to be Progena so act like ones!**

**Channel your grief, your hate and your determination,**

**'cause our hate is an irresistible force!**

**Ave Imperator!"**

Roughly three fourth of the Progena joined her in the last two words, the others mumbling something and looking down at their tables sullen, life in the schola was hard but they even thought they were orphans, every last one of them, they just haven't seen yet how little care the Galaxy gives to the life of men.

As the arrival of the teachers was a special event the meals which were rolled into the hall on little carts were far more varied and plentiful than the usual rations they got and which intended to make them used to scarce and bland food.

Soon lining the long dining tables and enriching the air with a sweet smell were pancakes, each Progena staring disbelieving at two thick and fresh discs, with a rich fruit sauce covering them.

**"What are you waiting for? You need to have eaten something to do your work."**

The missionary said with a smile and the Progena fell into a small cheer as they dug in, only Hailey looking up to her questioningly instead of enjoying the rare treat. Letting the handy smile drop off her lips Flavia nodded towards the other Progena:

**"They are obliged to follow their superior's orders to the letter and to death, but at the same time it's our duty to ensure their survival or that their death has the most use for Him."**,

With a faint smile surfacing she absently started to cut a small piece of the pancakes for herself, before continuing talking to Hailey;

**"Do you know the tradition of Emperor's Day? Superiors and subordinates give each other gifts, the subordinates because it's their duty and the superiors to reward the subordinates for good services rendered in the year. While I can see that there are still some edges we need to smoothen, their reaction to an belayed waking call this morning showed so much, they are coming along fine for a mere two months and they were one of the most coddled bunch of children I have ever seen, you could think their parents all were high in the Ministorum."**

Scoffing lightly, as the thought of someone fainting from seeing a bit of blood in their first close combat drill was just ridiculous and she couldn't imagine a more stark contrast to the youth of Cadia or Emperor forbid: Catachan, Flavia turned towards her pancakes.

She had made sure to send the girl to the stables for some days, the chicken they had bought needed some extra care and after getting a knife and crying some hours the girl was even able to butcher the birds without fainting; clearly a coddled simulant.

Chewing slowly on the sweet dough she looked towards the young Hailey, she was coming along quite nicely; taking the Imperial Creed like a thirsty wander in a desert while displaying a ruthless streak for punishments and efficiency if needed like this morning.

_"Even though"_, the missionary mused as she reached for her glass, _"…maybe it was a bit too mild, only one of them learned something thanks to the baton….maybe letting them fast as punishment would have been more fitting…"_

Leaning back into her chair she watched the future to be Progena eating and chattering without any care, for the moment.

_"And the literature the Alliance has sent me is just of no use: Trust building activities? Anti-authorial education methods? I have no idea how this pocket empire is even able of maintaining itself if their children aren't taught the importance of duty and sacrifice for their race. Even the most down trodden Hive gangsters will have once heard the Imperial Creed and I can say truthfully that it was one of the most inspiring sights in all my years as missionary when hundreds of gangsters lead by their local confessor bolstered the lines of Arbites when the Hive world Mideas VII was threatened to be overrun by the minions of chaos."_

A small cry and laughter stopped the last moments of her reminiscing as some of the Progena started to throw the fruit sauce at their unfortunate neighbours or if they were very brave right over their tables and into the necks of the others.

Reaching out and pressing her hand on Hailey's shoulder, she only watched as the room started to descend into a food fight, the red fruit sauce arching through the way like mortar shells, while some just scooped them in their hands and smeared it against other's faces.

**"Missionary, I have to protest! The discipline…"**

Turning her head she stared down at Hailey coldly, who had raised her voice but now regretted it instantly as she cast her eyes down under the unwavering attention of the missionary.

**"Progena Satterfield"**, she said in an icy voice **"You will not doubt my decision even in things like this."**, her eyes went back to the field of battle, carefully watching their movements, seeing how alliances formed and fell in the blink of an eye.

Only after another few minutes she took her arm off Hailey's shoulder and gave her a pointed look, before gestures at the table and the two Sisters "I'm sure nearly none of them like Sister Marie…or you for that matter, and the action this morning should have given them quite a grudge, but look around, do you see any traces of sauce next to us?"

And indeed; as Hailey looked around she had to see that their table was unscathed while the rest of the room looked like a battlefield, at least to her, the other three women had seen more war and battlefields than any other being in this universe…expect some giant squids maybe.

But nonetheless Hailey carefully tried to make her displeasure known:

**"But missionary if we allow them things like this…"**

**"It might end in disaster."**, Flavia said with a small wave of her hand, as if it would be of no matter to her, **"…but at the same time it might be the start of a tradition. Do you know why there are multiple rooms, with only four Progena in each? Or why all rooms are spread on two floors in each of the two dormitory buildings?"**

Shaking her head lightly Hailey looked up to the missionary, waiting for the answers to the missionary's puzzling questions. With a small sigh and a bit of disappointment at her oldest student's lack of an answer Sophana replied:

**"It`s quite simple: Humans want to prove themselves in the face of others, the most noble approach would be doing the Emperor's wishes and proving your loyalty and faith to him.**

**But they are young, not yet firmly anchored to the Imperial Creed, so the best thing we can let them have is competition, not only between the occupants of a room, but also between the rooms and the rooms of one floor might compete with those on the other while both dormitories try to excel over one another…are you laughing?"**

She suddenly asked as the Progena in front of her smiled amused; her eyes tearing slightly from suppressed mirth before finally blurting out:

**"So can we win points and a House Cup? Or fly on brooms and play Quidditch?"**

**"What are you talking about?"** she muttered perplexed, not really noticing how Sister Marie and Marina stood up and started to usher the Progena either outside or to a storeroom to get some cleaning supplies.

Finally snapping out of her giggling Hailey tried to reform her impassive mask but still had to smirk **"It`s just….a book from my Grandma was about a fictional wizard called "Harry Potter" who went to Hogwarts, school for Witchcraft and Wizardry or something…anyway: they also had these strange competition between their four houses, letting the students earn points over the course of the year before finally counting them at the end and giving the house with the most points a cup as prize for the year."**

Hailey might have continued telling more and more of the book, real paper things, she once found in her Grandmas attic but she heard the sound of tortured wood and looked down, seeing the missionary clenching her hand around the chairs wood, her voice being slow and low as she stared down at Hailey: **"Witchcraft?"**

Nodding quickly and fearfully Progena Satterfield tried to get away from the unflinching glare of the missionaries eyes, **"Yes but….it`s…only fiction…there`s nothing like those…psykers you told us about…magic springs purely from creative human minds!"**

**"Only a small mind is a tidy mind."** Flavia gnarled slowly, her eyes boring down into Hailey **"Is there other such….fiction?"** She drawled dangerously.

**"Mhhh….there are thousands of books with…magic….or aliens…for that matter…."** the Progena tries to say carefully.

Closing her eyes with a heartfelt sigh Flavia nodded to herself **"I see…Hailey?"**

**"Yes?"** came the timid reply.

**"You will talk about this books to Sister Marina, you will help her in cleansing our data from all this pro-psyker propaganda."**, Flavia said coldly as she stood up, her robe streaming behind her as she strode out of the doors, clenching her teeth in frustration, it seemed like a miracle this pocket humanity had even survived so long, fiction about psykers? And then positive stories too? This was madness but at the same time…how could they have survived if not for the Emperor's grace?

* * *

><p><strong>[Cyrene Spaceport]<strong>

* * *

><p>The landing was without complications and Lenostia D'roneus was enjoying herself quite fine on the expense of the history teacher; who would have guessed humans can become such an interesting shades of green?<p>

Checking her armatures a last time she stood up and opened the door to the passenger apartment: "Ladies and Gentlemen; we have arrived on Cyrene just in time, our landing permissions were received without problem and a transport car is waiting for us."

With a smile she holstered her pistol, silently laughing at the appalled expressions on the math and biology teacher's faces, no idea why Councillor Anderson sent a group fresh from earth.

"Officer D'roneus?" the silent whimper of the history teacher called out.

Turning around she couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for him, he was what one could call lanky, thin as a wire and tall like a bean, with a pair of big jug ears and a face showing the tiniest bit of insecurity right away.

"Yes Mr. Anderson?" she asked in her most calm voice,

At one hand he was quite the most polite person she had met so far, if you ignored some Hanar, and on the other hand he was Councillors Andersons Nephew so it most likely was a good idea to be as nice to him as possible.

"It's just we….mhh…I am asking if you are expecting trouble, if you are taking your pistol with you…" he said slowly throwing small glances at the faces of his four colleagues over his shoulder.

Laughing warmly for all of them to see, Lenostia reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, her smile widening a little as she saw the blush working itself on the young man's cheeks.

"It's only standard procedure and you shouldn't be worried, Cyrene is a trade hub, it's got some mercs and thieves here and there but it's one of the safer places outside of Council space, with a well working police force too."

Saying the last words a bit louder for the benefit of the other teachers and noting them relaxing ever so slightly, Lenostia moved towards the shuttle's door, opening it and gesturing outside into the spaceport's interior: "After you."

Nodding friendlily towards a group of Port worker who were taking their luggage, Lenostia watched her passengers disembark, Mr Grimlay, the physics and chemistry teacher helping Mrs. Baker the Math teacher out of the shuttle. Then while Mr Anderson was at the beginning of his life with mere twenty-six years Mrs Baker was already far in it with her fifty-nine years and slowly greying hair.

"They live such short lives…" it involuntary came from her lips. For a maiden of her two hundred and sixteen years it was only a fraction of all her time, with fifty-nine she wasn't even considered fully adult by those around her yet.

While Mr. Durand, biology and P.E., was talking with Mrs. Maier, Geography and English, Lenostia was walking towards the cab driver already waiting for them.

Said driver was a burly man, wearing one of the millions grey working suits which were so popular on the colonies and smoking a short glomming cigarette, smoke raising in curly grey clouds from it.

"You have arrived?" he asked in a bored tone as if he wouldn't have been able to see the shuttle landing with his own eyes.

"Obviously, so if we could get into your car? We are being expected." D'roneus said flatly eyeing the man with growing distaste after only a brief conversation…with not more than two sentences needed to form an opinion.

Slowly as he would was overcoming a great obstruction just to please her, he turned around and staggered towards the car, his belly rocking with each step.

Closing her eyes with a long tortured sigh she waves the teachers towards the car and opened the doors letting them slip in.

The car was a surprise, from the drivers behaviour she didn't expect much, she certainly had expected less, but taking a look around she had to admit that it was not only clean but also quite comfy, the thick padding of the seat letting her sink into it with a content smile, as she closed her eyes after the long flight, just a bit of….

"So you are visiting this bunch of nut nuns?" the deep voice of the driver cut into the her moment of peace and she frowned at his tone:

"I'm accompanying the teachers to their new work place and I'm sure it's not very well mannered to call someone a "religious nut"."

The driver only gave her a grunt and shrugged:

"They have to be nuts, their new dome is big enough for multiple football fields, the last time something like this was built on Cyrene was when a rich company decided to mine on the eastern side and now they throw that much money out just to build a church? And a terribly ugly one as well, reminds me of these dark things below Paris, you know Notre Dame?"

Before Lenostia could reply to that Mr. Anderson had leaned towards the driver,

giving a small shrug and a smile:

"So they build more traditional? That isn't that uncommon many religious groups try to return to traditional virtues in one way or another, if it's only architec-"

"It's not only architecture! Do you know those dark necropolises below Paris? That's what they build on the surface, skulls and bones everywhere and ugly as hell gargoyles staring down at you wherever you go! They must be nuts, otherwise they wouldn't have built a church which scares everyone away from visiting it!"

The driver shouted back, his hands clenching around the steering wheel dangerously.

Trying to defuse the situation Lenostia calmed pointed out that:

"It surely is some sort of cultural misunderstanding, the Council…"

"Tell someone who cares about your Council! I left council space because I think they are idiots who can't even find their own asses with both hands and I'm right! They let these creepy weirdoes build an orphanage/school thing for children! WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD GIVE THEM CHILDREN?"

He shouted, the brakes squealing as they were pressed down the car coming to halt, its occupants getting thrown around wildly, their head hitting walls and padding's indiscriminately, as the loud voice of the driver wrenches itself in their heads:

"We are here now out of my car!"

For a moment Lenostia was surprised by the hostility in his voice but then she followed his glance, before them was a gate, the connection between the schola and the rest of Cyrene's domes, but it wasn't one of the graceful holographically locked ones she knew.

It was large, at least eight by eight meters: large enough to let two or three cars pass next to one another, but it weren't the proportions, she had seen bigger gates.

The gate was…massive, it's dull black colour depressing if compared to the light white and grey behind of the rest of Cyrene's halls, it's armoured shell seeming like the gate to a krogan heaven and the large two headed bird of prey staring at her with his golden head and white open talons making her, a Asari with centuries of life, feeling small and like a mouse.

Shivering slightly she turned to the sides and saw that her human companions weren't taking it much better, Anderson even just standing there with his mouth wide open.

"Officer D'roneus….officer D'roneus...** filthy xeno!**" an annoyed voice called out and broke the group out of their stupor.

Standing next to the gate was the young Satterfield Lenostia still remembered; only now wearing a heavy great coat and a blue sash additionally to her school uniform.

Walking towards her with a smile, Lenostia opened her arms to pull the girl into a hug:

"Hailey! It's nice to see you how are you-"

An extended hand stopped her, the young scowling lightly while shoving the officer away, before nodding curtly at the teachers;

"If you would follow me please, everyone is waiting for you.", she said with a short clipped voice and turned on the spot, the heels of her boots clicking on the metal floor ominously as she walked towards the heavy gate, the loud creaking of half exposed cogs on both sides of the gate was being heard as it slowly rose into the ceiling opening the way into a gloomy passage.

"Are you coming, or not?" their…guide's? Call came and they scrambled forward, the teachers trying to stay close to the C-Sec officer as they walked through the dark hallway, their every step echoing in it. The only light being…

"Are those braziers?", Mrs. Bakers called out as they walked past one of the bronze contraptions, orange and red flames licking and smouldering in their basin, the hot air giving the cloth banners above them a soft swing, letting the ever present Aquila, this time in silver on red ground, move as if it was flying.

"Yes.", came the reply of Hailey, hitting the hammer on the nail with her short answer.

Staring at the young face in the shine of the flames Lenostia became slowly worried, it was hard to be believe this wasn't the same child but her features seemed sharper, her muscles more toned and small scars and scratches were visible on her cheeks.

She was a far cry from the lively young girl on the citadel, who always laughed and asked questions, maybe there was something on the things the driver told them?

"Say…what's that on your side?", Mr Grimlay suddenly asked, trying to break the awkward silence the teachers were in, their first meeting with one of their new charges being quite…different, judging from her clothing she might be some sort of military or history fan but they got told the school was using a school uniform…

"A shock baton."

"A shock baton? Why are you carrying something like that?!" Mrs. Bakers screeched and looked at the other teachers, "A child shouldn't carry something like…"

"Your worries are unneeded; I'm the schola's sole discipline mistress: I know what I`m doing.", Hailey replied without showing any other emotion as they walked towards the second gate, but the teachers weren't going to be silenced by a child, so Mr Grimlay tried again:

"But you have to see that that's nothing you should wear in a school, you could hurt others!", from the things they had expected non was Hailey snorting before laughing silently to herself as she shrugged and continued walking.

Being ignored by a future student wasn't something Mrs Bakers and Mr Grimlay were going to just endure, so they quickly walked up next to Hailey:

"Young girl! After meeting the headmistress we are all going to her office with you, it can't be that she's allowing a student to carry something akin to a weapon in all openness! Not to forget this ridiculous coat, you should immediately change into your uniform when we arrive, it just can't be that you…"

Any other words were silenced as Hailey stepped up to a small panel, clicking a couple of buttons without paying the outrage of her future teachers any heed as she stepped back and turned to them with a bored expression on her face:

"We have arrived."

Slowly the loud noise of machinery came to life again, the heavy steel plate which formed the gate moving, it's Aquila rising as bright daylight filtered into the dark passage, the teachers and the officer shielding their eyes as the interior of the Cyrene's newest dome was revealed:

Black, steel, Grey, Concrete, high archways, tall but thin windows, spiked rooftops and grinning gargoyles showing their terrible grimaces.

And grass, lots of grass, trees, large patches of green over loomed by the monstrosity some called school in their ignorance, but each schola is a fortress;

An unyielding and unconquerable castle of the Emperor's faithful, a place where generation after generation learns to live and die in His name.

To fight, endure and sacrifice for Him and the survival of humanity.

But the small group stepping on the ground holy to Him didn't know this, but they felt it.

Holding their breath, wide eyes and trembling they took steps forward as the Progena with the blue sash gave them a small shove, a smile gracing her lips for the first time as she stepped to the side and fell into the place left open for her.

Crossing her arms behind her back, clicking her heels at another as she stood at attention she fit into the rows, two rows on each side of the street leading to the gate which led into the interior of the church.

Two hundred Progena standing rigidly at parade readiness, their eyes unflinchingly staring forward, their features set and their body arms crossed, they lined the street, silent and unnerving.

What was this?

Weren't they just children? Shouldn't they be chatting with each other? Making fun of silly things and laugh at such occasions? Running around and bringing chaos into any try to get them into line?

They just shouldn't behave like this; children never did, staying in silence, without the least bit of murmur.

Their teachers were fidgeting nervously as they walked through the silent lines, each of them slowly starting to hurry their steps towards the tall portal which led into the building, each step getting farther away from this weirdness, each step bringing them closer to the only thing they wanted to reach right now.

Then in front of the door was an expression, a true expression of a feeling, in this sea of passive masks there was one smile that lured them to it like moths to the flame.

Bearing this mask was none other than Missionary Flavia Sophana of the Missionarus Galaxia; who had raised her arms wide to welcome them, her amusement plain in every sight as she glances at the Sisters, who stood next to her.

Taking a deep breath she let her eyes glance over the assembled rows of the Progena, two months, miserable two months and she had them formed so far, before letting her voice raise into the air and echo over the grey clad rows and before she finished her words were thundering from two hundred throats, the teachers and the xeno flinching under the Volume and the conviction which shone from a hundred faces:

**We shall carry our word.**

**We will correct and unify**

**Hail the Emperor!**

* * *

><p><strong>To my readers: in hope it will stay this way and not sneakily reformat itself like chapter 5; or loosing all bolt letters again...and again<strong>

* * *

><p>Kinunatzs: There will be a time skip in chapter 8 I think, or chapter 8 will be the highlights from the two years between ME 2 and ME 3. And not only for you but for all who want such things: FOR THE LOVE OF THE EMPEROR! HOW! THERES NO MECHANICUS!<p>

DeusImperator: you are welcome

Guest: Do note please that there is no "Low Gothic", Low gothic is the whole spectrum of languages that evolved from High Gothic, which is the universal language of the Imperiums Elite, their lingua franca.

Lovin it: Indeed ^^

Commissar Critical: it will take time, but in the end the Emperors will, will be done.

BlackKnight92: Again: who knows?

Jouanit: Thanks

SpecH82: as said above: in 1-2 chapters

Douchiesnacks: Just started with university so it will either be more quickly or slower with writing

Lord Sadacchus: "Whips my friend? I'm sure such rumors are without any ground...but we will make a excursion with the troubling students, I hope it will have a moderating influence...yes?...yes: Sister Marie will accompany them...you know seeing the world...I head Omega is a nice place."

i like cheese: I wouldn't call it incompetence, and it will get harder for our missionaries but right now they landed in a period where the council is busy with the first attack on the citadel and has to calm the people down and hunt the last Geth outside the Veil, so basically they are just to busy to pay much attention to three harmless clerics


	7. Accident-prone

By the Emperor….they weren't much.

But what had she expected? The humans of this pocket empire seemed to be a chain of oddity, softness, incompetence, disappointment and even heresy.

Their souls, or at least most of them, weren't tainted beyond salvation yet and as the Progena showed they could even find their way back to His teachings.

So why was she automatically comparing her new scolastici to those of the schola she had visited once before? It could only be a disappointment.

Mr Antonio Grimlay had the looks of an early greyed servant from a hive world's noble household, always wearing what seemed to amount to formal clothing in this part of the galaxy, standing slightly taller than her with 6'3 feet he always seemed neat and freshly ironed as if one could fold him and store him inside a cabinet till there would be use of him.

But from what he had told her in the few minutes they were already sitting in what the Mr Grayson junior had dubbed a staff lounge, he seemed to field the knowledge of a very basic tech priest or a very educated forge world worker.

In contrast Mrs Sarah Baker pretty much looked like she had expected, a bean counter and pencil pusher who never got near any real work and used her whole life to create herself a neatly ordered world from numbers, perfect material for an Administratum drone if she would slim down a bit. With her 5'6 feet and signs of a quite comfortable life till now, she seemed much like a big fat ball…not to dissimilar from some Administratum Adepts.

The only one halfway passable seemed to be Mr Eric Durand, Physical Education seemed to be his speciality and with slight approval Flavia could watch him and Sister Marie exchanging training plans and their thoughts about the most likely outcomes of most exercises, only the occasional wince or frown on his face showing his displeasure with some of them.

The missionary sighed, something she also had ample opportunity to train, even if Mr Durand seemed quite impressive and in his prime with his 6'2 feet and fairly well toned muscles he seemed far too soft in spirit for this kind of job, she doubted he could ever come closer to a true drill abbot than being a mere shadow.

Miss Janette Maier was quite the most useless of the bunch, everything regarding Geography and English as they called their native language, an obscure branch of Gothic for sure, even if not even Sister Marina could find the connection, would be taught to them by the Sisters.

As long as they could read military maps and read and write the holy scriptures of the Ministorum to have orientation in worldly and divine matters they knew enough.

If possible she should try to get Janette into a small training program with 25 years she would still be quite malleable enough to regret and atone for her life before hearing the truth of the Imperial Creed would fill her with new purpose.

The truly intriguing thing was Mr Tobias Anderson, in his part: Nephew of Lord Councillor Anderson and scholar of the noble human history and theories on political systems.

This pretty much lead to him idolizing Sister Marina after the first few minutes of talking, as nothing can top the Imperium's history or experience with political systems which were tried and discarded again and again on more than a million worlds and the Sisters of the Ordo Dialogous were quite adept at translating and remembering texts, something one might easily forget.

In a way she had a slight suspicion, even a cursory glance wouldn't hide the fact he was thin as a wire while being taller than everyone around him with his 6'4 feet and not only the jug ears but also the slightly confused and sometimes scared expression on his face reminded her of some young nobles she had meet on her travels.

And why would one send their likes to a schola? Of course because their family was worried about their future career….and mere survival in the intrigue filled pits one called courts and governments on some worlds.

It was quite a good feeling to know that even outside of the Imperium a local dignitary was able to discern a scholas worth so quickly and as Lord Councillor Anderson had given his nephew to them she wouldn't want to disappoint him.

Young Anderson wouldn't be the first relative of a noble to find refuge in the Ecclesiarchy and she honestly had needed someone to carry out the small sermons and such for her anyway, not that watching the Progena light the candles would be something for her to do either, a young confessor to groom would be a nice thing.

"Really Marie, you imported horses from Earth?"

Clenching her teeth slightly the missionary glanced to the side,

seeing the blue skinned xeno witch sitting between humans, sitting on the ground of her schola was worse enough, but seeing the way she reached out to brush against Sister Marie's hand would make everyone sick, or at least it should have: the new scolastici were another disappointment in that regard Mrs Baker only giggling and murmuring something about young love, ignoring the fact that the xeno was most likely five times older than her.

The only one who barely showed any reaction was Mr Grimlay who muttered something about it not being appropriate in public, while the youngest two teachers just blushed a little and looked to the side as the asari obviously tried to swoon the Sister.

A xeno trying to romantically endear a member of the Adeptus Sororitas?

Hopefully she was the only one seeing said Sisters hand creeping towards her melta, the tenseness of her body only slowly seeping into her face which was stuck halfway between a shy mask and a furious grimace which spoke of retribution.

Coughing lightly to gather everyone's attention, sadly preventing the xeno's rightful end for the time being, the missionary stood up and gave the scolastici a small nod as greeting.

"I'm delighted to greet you today esteemed scolastici and I can say I'm thankful Lord Councillor Anderson has chosen you five to help us in our most noble endeavour. With your timely arrival and the finished construction on the east wing of the schola, you should be able to start teaching the Progena from this moment on, Sister Marina might help you in forming a time table to use.", Flavia says shortly as she looks in the face of each teacher,

"Progena Satterfield will show you to your rooms, she has taken the liberty to gather some of her comrades to get your baggage into your rooms, if you need anything or have any problems, be it from being unable to find your way or more….disciplinary ones, she will be the one you should ask."

Tilting her head slightly she nodded towards the Progena with the blue sash around her waist, standing relaxed at the door, her hands behind her great coat and a cruel smile on her lips which unnerved the teachers/scolastici greatly on such a young face.

Finally finding the courage to say something Mr. Grimlay coughed lightly before looking around to see that he got everyone's attention:

"I'm sure I can talk for all of us if I say that your school…"

Frowning lightly the missionary interjects "Schola Mr. Grimley, my institution isn't the same as some education institute for hive youths."

"…that your schola is making quite the….impression on each of us.", he said lightly as one or two of his colleagues shuddered lightly; the leering gargoyles being just to strange and foreign to people having lived between sky scrapers of glass and steel for their whole life.

"Calling it a necropolis might have been too nice for it.", Mrs Baker whispered under her breath, giving Miss Maier a small glance hoping for some encouragement, only to flinch as the icy tone of Sister Marina who sat next to her and stopped talking to Tobias for a moment:

"Death serves the Emperor, it shows what each of his servants has to accept eagerly if it serves his will and prevents the death of all mankind."

The impassionate tone in which the words were delivered didn't blunt the fierce determination in the eyes of the black-haired Sister as she stared the pudgy old teacher down who only paled lightly before sinking back into her chair.

"…I…just mean….the ornaments….with the skulls….are a bit…depressing…"

The, at first glance, older women stammered as she tried to sink back into the staff lounge's chair, small drops forming on her forehead as she stared into those cold brown eyes, which promised that no further inquiries would be…needed.

"It strikes awe and it strikes fear, two emotions all Emperor loving humans should be well acquainted to from the moment of their birth."

The Sister said curtly as she turned around to the slightly put off history teacher, starting to shift into an explanation of the benefits of a ruling aristocracy if managed correctly by an oversight organization which takes actions if needed….. like contacting one of the Assassinorum temples.

Turning her head lightly to the side, the missionary took her focus off Mr. Grimlay who has taken the route of getting in his headmistress graces by telling the usual flatteries she had already heard on one occasion or another:

The man just couldn't compare with a few millennia of inbreed ass kissing, some nobles had evolved, doing it in ways which didn't seem like outright flattery at first sometimes even insulting before sinking their hooks into you.

Slightly bored she tried to feint interest and swivelled her bionic eye towards the Sister of the Order Sabine had found a way to slip out of the disgusting xeno's reach and was now talking with Mr. Durand who was asking her something at this moment:

"Fencing? Why not…I did some in the day, not sure if I got a bit rusty, but I can remember some warm ups and steps.", he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, while contemplating the different techniques he had to search up with his omni-tool later.

"It would be greatly useful if you could take over the fencing class, Progena Satterfield should be able to help you with the training regime, I taught her the basics for the three fencing styles one should know. With that time free I can intensify my riding lessons, they will profit quite well from it",

Sister Marie said quite pleased, before frowning terribly as a blue hand closed on her shoulder, glaring at the grin spreading on Mr. Durands lips as he leaned forward and asked:

"They? You mean the students?"

"Not only them, it`s quite some work to train our horses, only thirty of them are already giving me more than a handful of work.",

She replied, thinking about all the work it had taken to make the horses ride first through holograms of multiple xeno specimens of this sector, before making them ride against firm objects which only had xeno pictures on them.

They were just unwilling to use their hooves on those already on the floor, or to run into groupings of opponents, it was just disturbing to work with such….peaceful creatures after being used to the aggressive Imperial cavalry steeds which might even start to chew on their rider if bored and not hold in a firm leash.

"Ohhh…you can handle animals? I would love to see riding!"

As the xeno exclaimed this the missionary wondered: was she really the only one seeing the Sisters disgust and discomfort shift to an expecting nearly predatory look as she stared at the xeno and out of the window towards the stables.

Hopefully she was.

"Wouldn`t that be a lovely idea Lenostia, why don`t you accompany me to the lesson in two days? I`m sure you would like to take a look at the horses too then?"

The Sister Sabine said sweetly, staying in character in the best tradition of her Order, diving into the local costumes and culture, laying the groundwork for the missionaries, and casting this behaviour off in the manner others might change their clothes.

Smiling in the belief that she was making progress the asari nodding with a smile and carefully traced her thumb over Marie's neck, never happening to notice just how close she just came to being superheated by a handheld melta.

"I would love to."

She said with a smile, which widened ever so slightly as the blonde mirrored it in kind,

"You just don`t know how much I do~"

* * *

><p><strong>A few days later~<strong>

* * *

><p>"The acid which is refined from the use of Nitride when cooked on the flame for 15 minutes and added with thirty gram of …",<p>

Mr Grimlay was quite pleased with the class till now,

even though the classroom was no different from the rest of the building the cackling skulls and dark ornaments were mostly…behind him, so for the first time of his life he was enjoying a totally silent class, all of the students….or Progena as the headmistress insisted on, were attentive, sitting straight in their chairs and with an unwavering if slightly nervous look pointed at him and his class.

"As you can see here with my experimental construction you will see, that…"

His explanation was rudely interrupted as a pained scream echoed through the courtyard, which is surrounded by the four building of the educational buildings in which the class was taking place.

Once again Mr. Grimlay was pleasantly surprised by the reaction of the Progena: none.

while other children might have run to the windows and gawked at whatever was going on without any care for their teacher, these ones were sitting upright in their chairs, the presence of a boy with a yellow sash around his waist and some kind of armored grey shoulder plate on his right shoulder seemed to be helping with this too.

Giving him, Heinrich Voigt if he remembered right, a small nod, Mr Grimlay stood up and walked towards the window, which was reminding him of a castle each time he stepped to it:

Bulletproof as he had heard, the tall gothic window was built with filigreed masonry around it, which ended in an arch with delicate ornaments.

Looking down at the courtyard which also served as the field for the PE class his eyes widened:

Mr Durand, 6`2 feet tall and shaped by a life of athletics was convulsing on the floor with his eyes wide open and half rasped screams echoing through the air, while his class only watched without any reaction, across from their teacher standing, Satterfield with some sort of sword or box with handle in her hands and her stance relaxed but wary.

* * *

><p><strong>A few minutes earlier:<strong>

* * *

><p>"Good, is everyone here?"<p>

Durand said as his gaze swept over the courtyard, a class of twenty standing in the shadow of the buildings around them, orderly in two rows with the blue sashed girl standing next to them and eyeing their neat lines sharply.

Seeing her give him a sharp nod he smiled, trying to brighten the mood up a bit:

"Have to say this is my first class which is fully present at the start of a lesson."

As no reaction followed he sighed and tried to look every one of them in the eyes, only to be met with expressionless gazes directed back at him, only one or two of them smiling slightly or giving away any other reaction.

"As you might have noticed: I`m your new PE teacher and while I usually tend to stick more to the….common sports in my classes, Sister Marie has informed me you were dabbling a bit into fencing with the three styles one needs, so? Did you start with the foil before going to sword and maybe even sabre?"

Looking into the round with an infectious, or at least one that usually was, smile he waited for an answer, but as none of them made a move to say something he turned and looked at the strange girl;

"Satterfield?"

Immediately the girl with her greatcoat looked up to him; "Yes?" Her tone flat and not giving any of her thoughts away.

"I was asking, Satterfield, which swords you were already using in this?"

"Swords, Mr Durand?" She asked back with a small smile.

"The only sword we learned how to wield was the sabre, otherwise we learned fencing with fixed bayonets and knife fighting combined with hand to hand combat."

"What?" Was the only thing Mr. Durand gasped as he stared at the girl who said it to him as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"But in regard to sabres we only went through chopping moves mostly, the rare thrusts were more of a small diversion from the usual routine."

She said with her fingertips drumming along the hilt of her baton.

"I see…" he really did not, "…maybe we could have a small spar and see how far you progressed?" he muttered nearly on autopilot as he wondered if the cabdriver was right and they were really nuts.

Giving a small affirmative nod, Hailey turned around and gestures to the two Progena at the most left of the lines, who both quickly lowered their heads and thumbed their fists against their chest in a salute before turning on the heels and disappearing into the storage building.

Returning a few moments later each of them was carrying a heavy bundle on the backs, steel handles reflecting the moon's sun light, as they came to a halt and carefully placed the bundles on the floor before Satterfield, opening them to expose…

"God…this….you call these monstrosities sabres? Those are clubs!"

With disbelief he looked at the…sabres… the students had brought to him:

They were boxy.

No: They were boxes. Maybe 36 inches long, with at least 10 inches being the handle, which was not only held in a light golden tone but seemed to emit the same sturdy aura as the building around them: indestructible and added with a thick guard which reached out from just above the swords pommel in a rectangular angle before doing it again two times, finally joining the swords main body just below the "blade", wide enough to cover the front of all four fingers below it.

The association with a club didn`t come from nothing:

Where fencing sabres had a flat blade which came together at the tip of the sword, keeping it a thrust weapon, these things didn`t have so much of a blade.

In its stead was a metal box, as wide as three fingers and 25 inches long at least,

Mr Durand couldn`t quite understand how this should work out as a training weapon: how should children be able to hold it, as it seemed to be purely made out of heavy steel and how should one land hits against each other without breaking the bone beneath the area?

As if to answer his question Satterfield bend down and picked one up, her arm straining lightly but to his surprise she was able to wield it with one arm. Mirroring her, albeit a bit reluctant, he closed his grip around the handle and lifted the "sabre" from the ground.

While it wasn`t as taxing as he feared it still threw him off a bit by the way it was totally incomparable to a normal fencing sabre.

Turning it in his hands he took a look at the sabres blade, or rather the lack thereof,

then while the back of the weapon was just boxy and rectangular it`s lower side seemed to narrow down from the back but instead of coming together into a blade, there was only at least one finger wide opening that went from the tip of the back's end over the frontal side of the box and then back to the guard.

Only as Hailey reached down again, taking a rectangle hard rubber piece and setting it into the empty part of the sword, giving it a clumsy edge for training, even if a hit with the uncovered steel sides must still hurt like hell and at minimum leave some bruises.

Taking an identical piece of rubber he put it into the gap thought for it.

With the hard rubber firmly in its place, Durand took a few steps back.

Lowering his posture, by going down with his knees, he put his left hand on his left side and out of the way as he turned it to face away from Hailey, while his right hand struggled for a moment to get his heavy sabre (of sorts) in a line with his outstretched arm, pointed at the Progena. Giving her a little smile he said:

"If you would get into position please, Ms. Satterfield."

Frowning as if having bitten into a sour fruit Hailey replied:

"Progena Satterfield, Mr Durand."

After correcting him she went into a similar low crouch, but with the sabre not pointed straight at him.

Instead she had it slightly pointed downwards and the tip more towards the left.

Smiling lightly and in the belief the Situation was regaining the regular structure of a class again Mr Durand took a step forward, shifting into an attack lunge with the aim to thrust the heavy tip against her chest.

Taking a step back in mocking slowness, Hailey stepped past his range without problems before pressing forward, not using any time with thrusting moves, she simply swung her blade upwards, as if to cut though his chest, aimed for his hips.

Moving backwards from his formerly extended position, the teacher brought his sword down as he tried to pull his leg and hip away from the Hailey and hard rubber met on hard rubber with a dull thud, but with the weight along, guided by the strength Hailey had built up over the past few months, Mr. Durand was in for a bad surprise as a sharp pain lanced through his wrist for a few moments as the two club like weapons brought their weight to bear on both:

Their wielders and their opponents.

It only took moments for Hailey to pull her training sword away and raise it again, going for another slash while her teacher was trying to adapt to a way of slashing with the heavy training weapons.

But until her slash came, he was already moving backwards, going for his own hit, trying to capitalize on the longer range his height was giving him over the young girl.

Seeing the sword coming towards her, Hailey threw herself forward raising her own sword to block with its reinforced back before struggling to close in even further, as their weapons parted again and she quickly slashed for her teacher's abdomen, getting rewarded by a faint grunt and a wince as the hard rubber hit his muscles.

"Ahh..good that we are using rubber blades at least…",

Mr Durand muttered as his free hand covered his belly, looking down he could only frown as he thought about it turning blue in some moment, as he looked up he could raise his sword just in time to deflect a hit aimed at his right shoulder .

"What the…!" he cried out in surprise as his blade met Hailey's who had used the distraction to try getting another hit home.

"You didn't yield…" she said simply as she looked at him.

"You damn…" he muttered under his breath as he tried to think back to the more in depth fencing classes he had once, not having prepared for real, thinking he wouldn't need it….at least he thought so till now.

Looking at the other students who were watching their sparring attentively he raised his sword into an fencing position once again, if he would show off his own progress they might take him more seriously in the rest of the class and as if a little girl, who is more than two heads shorter than him, could take him on!

Feinting an attack on her right arm he changed the line of his sword in the last moment coming down crushingly on her right thigh, her lips thinning ever so slightly as the only sign of the pain which made one or two children in the lines wince.

Giving her a mocking grin he brought the sabre up for a salute as it now stood one to one.

From this moment on the spar seemed to change, while both sides had only tested each other until now they were trying to do their best now: with Hailey starting to use the tricks Sister Marie had shown her with only limited success on Mr Durand, who seemed to shrug most of the attacks, which had to change direction at least once to come through his blocks, just off.

The other way around wasn't really Satterfield's strength;

following the hit on her now throbbing thigh a couple of light glances hit arms and shoulders, either by leading her into traps with feints or just by overpowering her or using his longer reach to his own advantage.

But the most successful attacks was one against her sides and another on her left shoulder, which started to hurt painfully as she started to breath more heavily, her younger and less disciplined body unable to take as much punishment as her teacher,

even her great coat could only dampen so much and now she was breathing heavily with her hair sticking to her head wet from sweat.

"Are you giving up now?"

The teachers taunt came as he rested his swords tip on the floor for a moment, his face glowing in excitement as he slowly got into one of his less present, but now very enjoyable sports, even if he just had to buy new training swords.

Taxed eyes looked up to him from underneath a peaked cap,

the silver skull cackling up at him as it suddenly lurched forward.

Using his open posture she rushed forward with something close to her last breath, not even stopping as he desperately tried to bring his sword up.

Before she barrelled against the larger body both of her hands were closed around the grip of the sword with its tip pointed upwards and as she ran against her teacher and fell to the ground with him she heard a sick pop and a muffled scream.

Rolling back on her feet she took two steps back to regain distance with her sword still ready and firmly in both hands.

But as she took a good look at her teacher her hands started to tremble:

Lying on the floor Mr Durand was reaching for his throat with half raw cries as he coughed and gasped for air, his body trembling and convulsing as he fought for another shallow breath after the next, his sword long forgotten on the floor on his side.

And as quickly as a fire gun, Hailey's face paled into a sick white with a slight green tint as she looked at her comrades, who only needed a small nod from her for two of them to run into the building to get a stretcher and another two running to call the ambulance and the headmistress.

Seeing that everything was done Hailey looked back at the screaming form of her teacher, the heavy sword falling out of her hands and landing on the hard floor as she fainted and fell backwards into blessed darkness.

* * *

><p>Looking at the two unmoving forms Mr Grimlay was just going to run down to help as he saw two robbed figures running down on the field: both of the sisters.<p>

Gulping slightly he just hoped the best for both of them as he turned back to his class, which was still sitting silently, only some students comparing notes under the watchful eyes of Heinrich.

Coughing lightly to get their attention and his mind off the scene he had just seen,

He walked back to his table, taking out a small black box, fitting perfectly on his palm, with heavy golden Aquilas adorning it on all six sites.

"Good…good….as for our next project…"

With a delighted smile he opened the box exposing a polished crystal for the class, some of the students leaning forward to get a better look on it.

"As you can see: this is a Crystal. The headmistress has already promised us the needed chemicals and microscopes to breed them and afterwards we will give you the chance to improve your handwork with the finished touch of the polishing."

Giving the class an eager expression at the project, so generously supported, he took the Crystal carefully from the box:

"We will be given enough materials that each one of you will be able to make three of them!"

* * *

><p><strong>"I'm disappointed Hailey."<strong>

Flavia said slowly as she looked on the girl in front of her desk, who seemed to sink further into her great coat with each passing moment under the missionary's eyes.

**"I'm…"** said Progena brought out unsurely as she continued to stare at her boots,

her hands still trembling whenever she thought about how she…

**"He's ok."** The missionary snapped at the Progena, slightly worried her most time intensive project was already breaking down.** "You only dislocated his Adams apple….the human throat is very flexible, it's quite risky but possible to get away without any real injury."**

The Progena only stared at her as if she was sent by the Emperor himself,

in some way he surely had them in mind in some way, her face showing great relif at the prospect of not having killed their teacher in his first fencing lesson with her.

**"Still…you nearly killed another human being Progena…as he isn't a servant of the Emperor one can see over this to a degree, but I still expect you to fast for three days and I will await you coming to the church with a new learned Hymn for Him, is that understood?"**,

Sophana said with a sigh, such fragile scolastici, really! A drill abbot wouldn't have gotten hit and even if…she would beg for him just to stand up and either beat the Progena who sent them down blue and black or give them a hearty slap on the back as praise.

**"Yes Missionary!"** Hailey called with far more life in her voice than minutes before when she was telling Flavia what had occurred in the courtyard.

Giving the Progena a small nod, the missionary's face turned into a more serious expression: **"As you seemed to have reacted so badly to what has happened…you are given a chance to help Sister Marie with following the Imperial Creed…"**,

She said, reaching down into a drawer of her table and settling a knife on the desk's surface giving the Progena a gesture to take it.

Looking at the gleaming knife and seeing her chance for even a bit of redemption today; she quickly took it and stood up, just forming the sign of the Aquila before running for the door and towards the stables.

As she hurried out of the door she nearly ran into a group of three men, who were just about to knock at the missionary's door.

If Hailey might have been more perceptive and would have looked at them she would have noticed that two of them were wearing small round caps, one in white and one in black, both men sprouting a neatly trimmed beard, while the third one was showing a small white collar and a silver crucifix hanging form his neck as pendant.

If she would have stayed behind to watch them she would have seen them respectfully greet the missionary who answered that in kind and offered all three of them a seat, before letting the conversation slip into some pleasant nothingness and answering questions about her school and chapel.

Finally the bystanders would have seen the Missionary smile an honest and quite content smile as she asked the three men, who were by now smiling back at her just as warmly:

_**"Please Brothers; tell me more about this…ecumenical church service."**_

* * *

><p>Gasping for breath but with a fare more brighter outlook on the day Hailey arrived in the stables, smiling lightly as she patted some of the steeds, which were waiting in their boxes, until she finally spotted Sister Marie still sieged by the disgusting xeno witch.<p>

"So…this is a saddle?" Lenostia said with a charming smile as she watched Marie continue her work with the beast…horse.

"It is." Sister Marie said strained as she put the saddle on the back of the horse, giving it a slight shove as it settled on the right place by itself.

The asari stayed silent for a few more moments, while Marie settled the saddlecloth correctly, trying the right seat some times before nodding approvingly and pulling on the belt, letting it dangle down on the side of the horse and bending downwards to pull it away from the horses legs, to prevent scaring them.

Using the sisters position the asari let her inner maid out for the first time in decades and leaned forward, pressing herself tightly against the back of the Sister…without ever guessing just how close to getting micro waved she just came.

**"…Progena….Satterfield…"**, Sister Marie pressed out between dangerously clenched teeth, as she closed the belt and quickly stood up, successfully getting the blue xeno of her back, who only giggled disturbingly human before looking at the horse, which Hailey continued to ready with bridle and halter quickly slipped on the horse, which only wheezed slightly agitated whenever the blue asari came into its view.

Finally ready, Marie forced another smile on her lips as she took the xeno hand, hiding her utter loathing behind a mask of pleasantness as her hands itched for nothing more than to use a holy flamer to deliver His cleansing fire to the abomination.

Taking Marie's hand Lenostia smiled happily, the last few days might have been a bit tense from the side of the students, but they were fresh orphans so they surely were still on processing the tragedies that struck them, so she took her happiness in the company of Marie who seemed to be a rather shy person at times and at others she was quite bold.

Smirking as she swung herself into the stirrups of the human mount, she laughed and looked down at Marie's angelic face.

Giving the xeno a warm smile, with her utmost care to hide all traces of the thrilled anticipation of anticipation she was feeling as she led the horses through the buildings doors.

She made herself a mental note to purify it later before letting a human ride it again, just butchering it wouldn't do right now.

Bending down to evade the borders of the door, Lenostia held the halter in her hands as they moved onto the large fields behind the school, which were made to look like grassy plains and nourish the horses with fresh grass. It was quite an interesting feeling to ride on an animal instead of a machine: it was warm underneath her, its muscles movements being felt through her legs as they went into a slow trot.

Smirking to herself as she led the xeno further onto the wide and open field, she looked back for a moment seeing Hailey follow the two of them in safe distance, letting go of the halter Marie smiled at the xeno as she raised them herself and made the horse go slightly faster.

It was thrilling, the way the beast reacted to her lead, feeling it work with every step, not mechanical like a car but alive…organic, just how far could she go?

She would have to try: best paid holiday ever!

Finally allowing herself a determined face Marie looked up, meeting the xeno's gaze a last time before giving the horse a slap on the behind making it surge forward into full gallop and smiling grimly as a second scream echoed in the dome of the schola on this day.

Officer D'roneus world slowed down for a few fateful moments, her eyes locking with the being of her desire of a moment as its face turned into a mask of a nightmare, her eyes shining with inner fire and losing the youthfulness she only now recognized as fake, in the same way some Matrons try to act like Maidens when trying to find someone in a bar.

As the horse underneath her surged forward she opened her lips to scream, but was pulled backwards as her saddle slipped away from under her, the belts clip having opened thanks to manipulation of the little blue sash wearing devil.

As her body was moved backwards the shock didn't let her hold on the halter fast enough and with her feet still in the stirrups she went over the side of the horse without getting the chance to be left lying.

With satisfaction Marie watched the xeno hit by realization just in the moment of her doom, her lips itching to sing prayers in His name as the first blue skinned witch of this sector was nearing to meet her end, her head hitting on the ground multiple times, scrapping over the grass and floor, blue or purple blood forming a trail intermixed with dirt and grass, until the whole of the saddle finally came off and the xeno landed on the floor, rolling a few times around her own axis, with her arms and legs hanging strangely on her body and with sick crunches whenever they were moved….it was music to Marie's ears.

Pain, there was nothing else, maybe movement, but that only became blurred after a while, her crests was bursting, at least this was how it felt like if it didn't break yet. Moving her broken and limp limbs slightly and under great agony she tried to get up, her eyelids fluttering as she looked up and saw the dome around the cursed building those without knowledge called simply school.

Suddenly a shadow came over her and she saw the underside of her mount, she wasn't angry on it, it wasn't its fault it was…

With a happy look at the hooves coated in purple blood, Sister Marie reached for her notes and made some notes about how pleasantly surprised she was with the training the horses had got: trampling everything that is either directly under them or looking not human, the holographic images of the xenos helping quite well in this regard.

The day would be perfect now, that…

**"Sister….it's still breathing!"** the voice of the Progena shattered her day dreams and made her prayer turn sour for a moment, but finishing it under her breath she turned towards the xeno she had thought dead with a scowl.

Seeing its still rising chest she could only clench her fists in suppressed zeal as she turned to the Progena and said shortly:

**"Call the ambulance…we had another accident."**

The missionary was firm in her orders that there should be no: _"Murder"_,

If you could call doing His work like this,

but she understood it was still time to wait for their plans to continue.

* * *

><p>"Executor Chellik, what can we do for you today?" Councillor Sparatus asked the other Turian instead of greeting him, as the executor walked into the Council chambers.<p>

"Councillors!", he said with great frustration in his voice, addressing the four most powerful individuals in the galaxy, "I only took this post because Executor Pallin was killed by the Geth assault, but while I'm head of C-Sec I have to insist of some rules to be followed: You can't just send one of my officers away without filling out the needed paperwork for it!"

Sharing a glance between each other Anderson stood up and looked at the turian:

"Executor, we knew you were fresh in office, we just needed Officer D'roneus for some days, delivering some people to a moon and taking a look for us before returning, there was no risk involved and she will surely be at her work at this time tomorrow, if you could…"

Pausing as the executor gave the equivalent of a sarcastic laugh and this to his superiors of all things! They watched him tap some buttons on his Omni-Tool for some moments and a second later all four councillors opened the files they had been send by him,

"Ohh Goddess", Tevos whispered shocked as she took a look at the pictures.

The other three blanching at the report and pictures they saw, wincing even further as they went to the x-ray pictures send too.

"Executor…no one could know such an accident might happen…" Sparatus tried first but was only stopped cold by an angry snort from the other turian.

"No one could know? What you don't know is that C-sec won't be able to handle the bills, because without an official order Officer Lenostia is skipping on work in the time this accident happened: So how should she be able to pay the hospital bills, just take a look at the x-rays and try to imagine how large the…"

"Executor…we will personally see into it, I will promise that Officer Lenostia will get the best possible treatment and that the surroundings of the accident will be…"

"COUNCILLORS!", the door was pushed open and a mixed group of C-sec and Alliance officers were running into the chamber, earning them the ire of the turian councillor whose mandibles flared up as he wanted to bite a piece out of them.

"How dare you to…"

"The SSV Normandy was destroyed near Alchera!"

"What…", a shocked silence reigned in the chamber as each Councillor tried to get over the initial shock, sure they wanted Shepard to be out of the way for some time but…

"How…how is Commander Shepard?" Anderson finally asked in a forced calm voice.

The alliance officers gulped and looked at one another uncomfortably before one finally stepped forward and said:

"From the survivors we have…news that more than twenty crew members are reported KIA….including one Commander Jane Shepard of the Alliance Navy…."

* * *

><p><strong>For the readers, who hopefully write some Metro 2033 Crossovers before I give in and try to do so... :<strong>

* * *

><p>First of all: I'm currently quite busy with starting university and writing allot of things each day even without the fan fiction so it generally moves in the little breaks between other activities. Furthermore I tend to scribble down scenes for future chapters as soon as I get an idea...so yes...a bit unorganized and slow. Anyway, to your comments:<p>

DeusImperator92: You are welcome and I guess its pretty self explanatory that they just can't be in the same galaxy and even universe would be...hard

Barbas Sephtis: See your comment as the reason Anderson will life and become important~

Blinded in a bolthole & Martenzo: Hopefully you wont mind I'm mashing you together:

Sorry for the typhos, I'm trying but I'm not a native speaker and usually have to stick to my proofreader (DeadAdder47117, read his story, flame him for my...ehmm..his typhos (not me!)), without whom I would hopelessly be lost (native speakers faint from my uncorrected grammar!).

Regarding Gothic: You two are right, but in my mind it kinda took the place of Latin and at least in the church in the medieval ages (and at universities till the 20th century) it was the lingua franca (its also an official language in the EU, thanks to the Scandinavian countries). And here it wouldn't make sense to teach them more Low Gothic Variants, because they are kinda rushing them through anyway.

Jouaint: Thank you as always!

predatorpucker: ohh...you haven't seen a thing yet ~

Lovin it: I find it quite funny that the future of a small sub plot is build upon a slight thing which makes it impossible for them to make an Guard Unit (But will preserve Anderson!)

Emile-A239: As you might have noticed I tried to be more descriptive (rather clumsily at the start one after another). And for my part I can say that I know of real military schools mostly regarding Prussian cadet schools and the same things in France, Austria and GB. If you mean any of the "modern" military schools...lets just say I'm going with the opinion of Stephen Clark in his book "Prussia" and not comment it further.

Commissar Critical: _**The path to duty is often a stony one, made smoother by thought for others**_

Imperial-Priest-Engelbart: So it may be!

SanShine: And above was just another.

The Flippant Writer: The Missionaries might seem more independent and tolerant than their brothers and sisters, but in the end you hopefully saw that it only comes down to doing his work as best as possible.

AlphaFartOfDoom: Hopefully you will continue doing so.


	8. Merry Emperors Day (WIP)

_Important Notice:_

_The current state of this chapter is one of no guaranteed correctness as my Beta Reader Deathadder somehow disappeared after writing me he was finished correcting it: as such I sincerely hope that he's well and nothing has happened to him._

_Now: the reason why I'm committing acts of grammatical violence towards you now: simply put: It's holidays and I' writing on the next chapters, but I would love to see your reaction to this one (even if only to keep me motivated writing more in the Christmas holidays)._

_So: Please please, forgive me for my English! At the first possible moment this chapter will be replaced by a corrected one, but else wise: I wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year, hoping that you might review a bit~_

* * *

><p>„Brothers and Sisters….Faithful!",<p>

Stressing the last word the missionary called out with a solemn tone, from the pulpit of Cyrenes sole catholic church in the main living dome, smiling lightly as some of the people who were nearly asleep in the last rows suddenly woke up and tried to look like they were listening the whole time.

"I`m honored to have been invited upon this pulpit to speak to you today and as such my brothers, as the local spiritual leaders, got my thanks.",

Bowing her head lightly towards the three men who had visited the schola some weeks ago and told her their idea of an joined church service, the missionary reached out, gripping the borders of the pulpit and looking down at the gathered congregation.

"I was told how this service is a sign: a bridge between old grudges and old hostilities between the three great religions of Earth and when I look down I`m seeing followers of not only those three but dozens of splinter groups sitting together, and having found their common roots!",

Giving the words some time to settle in, watching sharply how some of the people seemed to drift off to sleep again as they heard something along these lines for the fourth time now.

"I`m sure…that all of you have heard these three times already and don`t really want to hear it once again….**neither do I!**", smiling lightly as the last three words were amplified by the vox-staff Sister Marina was holding on the side of the church, letting her word reach every last corner of it.

"The Proudness you display when you talk about the huge achievement the mere existence of this so called "ecumenical" service is so laughable!",

she called out, noting with satisfaction how some of the faces below her seemed to grow angry at the casual dismissing.

"What you call: the final peaceful peak of humanities religious life, is** nothing!**

Your idea of what humanity might be is flawed!

You are wrong if you think that the one _home world…_", she stressed the world sarcastically,

"…and the few dozen colonies in what you deem council space is humanity at whole!

You are Lost!

Lost in the vastness of the universe for you have lost contact with your kin among the stars!

Lost in your way of living as you take on the Aliens way without suspicion!

How can you even dare to call yourself humanity if you do not know of mankind's empire?

If your own understanding and colonization isn`t even big enough to fill a sub-sector of Imperial space!",

Her voice amplified and filled with the fire of zeal and tempered by rhetoric was hammering against each of the gathered persons ears, their heads numb for a moment as they tried to process the worlds, slowly voices grumbling beneath the rows, some whispering hushed questions: doubting on the sane mind of the women standing above them, others asking what she meant with: empire, their voices growing ever louder until the missionary called out as they reached their peak:

"You ask what the Imperium is?

By the Emperor? Doesn`t this show how dim you are in the matters regarding the universe?",

Letting the thinly veiled insult hang in the air for a moment, Flavia quickly continued before the crows became angry:

"The **Imperium** is the **greatest empire** which ever stood in the darkness of the universe!

It is worlds number in the **million**, it`s guardsmen in the **Trillion**!

The holy state created by the God-Emperor himself, leading humanity out of the great Catastrophe and the long night, which nearly extinguished mankind itself!

You are asking yourself why you have never heard of the Imperium?

You are asking yourself why you have never heard of the God-Emperor?",

She waited for some moments as the people in the crowd started to talk to one another, their heads going from one neighbour to another before finally settling back on her, even if slowly and silently more and more of the gathered stood up and hurried out of the building.

"But Brothers! Sisters! You have heard of both: **The Emperor and The Imperium!**",

she called out triumphantly raising her arms up and smiling down at her listeners, holding up three small black books.

"Here, in your own scripture!

Then what is the Emperor?** OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR!**

He has giving his mortal existence for our redemption!",

with a flick of her wrist the first book adorned by a silver cross flies from the pulpit and hits the ground.

"Who`s the **Lord** your God, who brought you out of the land of slavery?

He is the God-Emperor himself, for:

There is only the Emperor

and he is **our Shield and Protector**!

As he has shown Himself in here!",

she raises the book with the star on it, showing it to all the gathered

"God describes himself as Protector and not in vain one of the most important prayer of the Adeptus Sororitas goes as following:

_**A spiritu dominatus,**_

_**Domine, libra nos,**_

_**From the lighting and the tempest,**_

_**Our Emperor, deliver us.**_

_**From plague, temptation and war,**_

_**Our Emperor, deliver us,**_

_**From the scourge of the Kraken,**_

_**Our Emperor, deliver us."**_

With a grand gesture she let the second book drop down from the pulpit, her lips tugging upwards in a smirk as this earned her more dark looks from the crowd below, even more standing up and leaving the church.

„And you? Those who call themselves Muslims?",

she called out, leaning forward from the pulpit and her bionic eye flaring up and letting her literally flaming gaze sweep over the gathered.

„Don`t you believe in god having send his messengers down to humanity multiple times, his message being reinterpreted multiple times?",

She asked in a tone which grew softer as she looked into the room and gave the still attentive listeners a small smile;

"In the ten thousand years since the founding of the empire He has sent us his messengers in the direst hours of need, when humanity itself was on the brink of extinction.

When doubt clouded the minds of His faithful,

His holy temples were burning under the laughter of madmen and the martyred bodies of those which entrusted their lives to him were covering the streets in the rubble of their homes:

Then He sent us His Saints and His Apostles!"

Raising her hands with the last book in them, she hold it over her head and looked down at those left in the building:

"When Mohammed wrote down the Qur`an he didn`t "just" found another religion: he had a God inspired mission of uniting all of man behind those words and if you have taken a look at your history, just as I did, you have seen **how far faith(!)** brought the nomadic tribes who gathered under the green flag of the prophet and build an empire from one corner of their known world to the other."

With a light thud the last of the three books hit the floor beneath the pulpit.

"But what is this compared to the saints of the Imperium?",

She asked in a solemn voice.

"It might appear unfair to dare this comparison…", Sophana nearly whispered into the anxious silence of the church. "…But is the factor of unfairness one that might justify silence?",

Taking a small breath her chest rose as she cried out:

**"IT DOES NOT!"**,

Looking down at her audience which was either huddled together, courtesy of Sister Marinas all around sound System that assaulted their ears, or looking up to her either in curiosity or with genuine fascination which was clued to her every word.

"How could one compare a tiny dot of blue you call home to the golden jewel of the universe which is holy terra, dedicated to Him and His vision?

How could you compare the small areas and colonies you lay claim to and which are assaulted by slavers and pirates at all borders to the whole greatness which is the vast Imperium of Man?"

She asked in a tone which was laden with sympathy and sadness directed at the gathered, who never had the chance to walk through the towering gates of Imperial cathedrals when the cardinals and confessors praise of the Lord soured up into the sky, never were standing next to a street when row after row of Imperial guardsmen were walking past them, their feet thundering on the stone of the street as the rumbling Leman Russ Battle tanks drove along their sides.

"Your prophets might have moved millions and set the rails for the history of your world, but what are those millions compared to the trillions of faithful who praise the Emperor on a million worlds?

They are local prophets at best, their messages stuck in your few systems as long as your technological progress keeps you reliant on the left overs of a long past xeno race! "But this isn`t true!", You will tell me, and I have read it in your Extra-net as well, but let me ask you: how many followers do your three faith have? More than 30%...40% of all humans on earth and in her colonies at best! That leaves more than the half of humanity without His guiding hand and even more of them are even leading a miserable existence in the ignorance which spurns from the lack of faith and will sooner or later lead them to catastrophe! And what has led you to this? ",

Flavia asked, not even trying to suppress her scorn as she looked down at the already thinned out wooden benches were some people were nodding lightly to her words, while others stood up and also walked out, leaving her with barely a fifth of those who sat or rather slept through her "brothers" sermons.

"The "discovery" of the Prothean ruins. That was everything it took to push all three of your religions into one of their deepest crisis, the mere existence of xeno's shattered your view of the world and made people loose faith in your churches in masses!",

The missionary chided as her lips quivered in barely suppressed contempt as she thought of these splinter sects of the Imperial cult not even being able to spine this to their favour. "In Genesis 1, 26-30 two very basic tenants are being told:

1. God created humankind in his own image: for He is the peak of humanity itself!

2. Fill the earth and subjugate it!: For He has given us His creation and given us the right to rule it for his His Glory and the Golden Throne!

What have you done to live up to his decree? Have you snapped out of the childish fights between yourself? Have you token the torch of faith and carried it into the darkness of the Universe like I and my order or dedicated to do? **You did nothing!**",

she thundered from above their heads her bionic flaring up once more, its orange and red light reflecting from the walls closest to her as her scorching glare moved over her audience.

"You had your first taste of the cruelty the universe can throw at you as soon as you started to expanding, running headfirst into the small skirmish you called: "First contact war" taking place on the **first planet** you ever colonized from earth! **And you lost it!** Not through the weakness of man but through the ruthlessness of the Turian general, who didn`t recoil from the mere thought of using shipboard weapons of all things **against civilian targets!" **

Somewhere in the back of her mind the missionary was laughing at the dark shadows of agitation which appeared on the listeners faces and gradually shifted into an anger filled expression on some of the older faces: They were already reacting appropriate to the savagery of the xeno, now she only had to improve it and show them how glorious His wrath was in return….but this still had to be scheduled for the future.

"But how did your leadership react to it? Did the see reason after this unprovoked attack? Did they try to lead an counterattack against the xenos which had so wickedly murdered your fellow humans?",

she asked rhetorical with a soft tone, indicating a mood of "more in sorrow than in anger", before reaching out to them with open arms:

**"I`ll tell you what happened!** You got lulled in by the "humanity" of the Asari and their sweet promise of peace: a peace with those murderers who suddenly became the upholding power of law when the System Alliance joined the Citadel space! They are nothing more than bullies and cowards, why else would have the xenos decided to stop hostilities which had no other aim than to make a weak "new" race into slaves in all but name?

Did joining them actually improve your living? If it would have, wouldn't you be part of Alliance space now instead of sitting here on an independent colony, which might be raided by slavers any moment? Slavers who simply get ignored by the Alliance and the Citadel, which can not even defend their own colonies and instead simply endure the "negligible" looses and attacks those batarian scum launches on other races in the name of a cultural tradition!", her words were carried through the silent room and the mixture of anger and grief was growing as small whispers went from one person to another, someone laying a hand on the mothers shoulder who's children were lost, a brother weeping for his sister who had surely found her way onto a slave market to be never seen again. In this highly charged situation Flavia Sophana said a simply sentence which was the basic truth in all situations, not that the backwards savages from outside His sacred Empire would even know:

"This wouldn't be allowed to happen in the Imperium, For it is the Imperium of **MANKIND!** And reaches as far as the smallest human settlement 'cause no world is outside of His reach and no human will ever be without his protection!"

After bellowing this last sentence her features shifted into softer tone as she looked down at the small core of those who had stayed through the whole length of her sermon: somewhere between two to three hundred. They were a nice split through the whole society of Cyrene: man and women, old and young, and most importantly: they were mixed from all three faiths.

"I know this is not the Imperium of His will: you were lost for so long and have forgotten so much. But when I look down at you I see hope, I see the basic corner stone the Imperium is founded on: man and nothing but man!",

Gently, with kind love infused in every movement, she crossed her hands into the sign of the Aquila closing her eyes and looking upwards at the ceiling as a melodious song escaped from her lips and started to fill the room, its softness at total odds with her furious speech of before, but strangely soothing to all listeners:

"Love the Emperor, For He is the salvation of mankind Obey his words, for He will lead you into the light of the future

Heed His wisdom, for He will protect you from evil.

Whisper His prayers with devotion, for they will salve your soul.

Honour His servants for they speak in His voice

Tremble before His majesty, for we all walk in His immortal shadow!"

Slowly opening her eyes ones again she opened her lips and only a moment later hundreds of voices called out:

**"AVE IMPERATOR!**"

Maybe not out of the devotion needed for a full conversion, but it showed how easily this humans could also be swayed with to indulge in an shared euphoria….a few hundred out of five thousands? It was a start.

* * *

><p>Mrs Baker was shuffling through the dark hallways of the schola, her once plumb figure having lost quite a bit of her extra padding in the last few months: courtesy of the mandatory physical exercises and fasting the headmistress had introduced a just shortly after her dreary chapel had started to fill with people who seemed to convert either from the Abrahamic religions or seemed to find the Imperial Cult, as the headmistress…missionary called it, attractive enough to loose the more critical view of religions which once brought them to atheism. Hurrying past a gathering of some older students, all of them bearing the blue sash Progena Satterfield had been to first to show and snapping to something akin to military attention: their palm covering their hearths as they clicked their hills together.<p>

Some months ago she would have been shaken by these children's readiness to subjugate themselves to a higher authority like this, but now it was merely normal making her react not much more than simply nodding to them as she walked past them, her flat heels clicking on the stone like floor and her own grey blazer neatly wrapped around her far thinner frame.

Once she might have also worried about the growing greyness her wardrobe was leaning towards but wearing something colourful in this walls was just…unfitting.

With a weary sigh she pushed the door to the teacher lounge open, her fellow colleagues looking up from their cups and biscuits as Mrs Baker entered.

The room was still as dark as the rest of the room but they comfy chairs had always made the teachers gravitate towards it, making it bear the slight signs of humans choosing it as their favourite spot, reaching from a small bookshelf for Mr. Anderson and Miss Maier had put in here and which was steadily filling itself with hand written manuscripts the headmistress two…assistants had written and supplied to the two younger teachers, to the small rack filled with wooden training swords and even spears Mr. Durand had immediately bought after leaving hospital and coming back to his job.

The whole episode about his injury was quickly solved anyway:

With having a visit by the headmistress and his return after the hospital doctors had decided he was fit to go again. But what came afterwards had surprised the other teachers just a bit at first: he immediately set out for Hailey Satterfield…. and apologized for his with the reason that:

"It was no aimed hit, she only reacted in panic and got lucky or rather unlucky when she came through my defence and hit my throat by accident. It's mostly my fault for having goaded her and giving into an urge of rivalry when I felt the joy of fencing again after so many years."

Unsurprisingly the most uncomfortable person with this thing was Progena Satterfield herself at first, who still continued to blame herself for some while.

Who could hold it against the poor girl?

Two training accidents on the same day had surely left her quite distressed but from what they could see the prayers had helped her in this regard.

The fate of their driver had shaken all of them quite hard, even if only Mr Grimlay was present when the emergency service had arrived on the scene and driven her quickly into hospital, but the large amount of purple blood lacing the formerly green grass of the riding field had told most of them more than they were comfortable with.

Of course she and her colleagues had visited the officer at hospital some days later, of course the lessons had to be postponed when they were away and the headmistress was busy soothing Sister Marie.

But who could fault them, it must have been traumatic and if one person would blame herself for such an accident it was surely the kindest of the three Imperials. They quite clearly remembered her distraught expression and how the headmistress had escorted her toward her own room, carefully evading all contact with everyone else on the way.

They weren't even sure if the poor women's nerves were able to endure a visit to the hospital in which officer D'roneus was lying until her condition hat stabilized and she was able to be send to Thessia were the most modern methods of medical sciences were doing her best to wake her from her coma.

Nodding to each of her colleagues friendly, she slipped into her usual chair and leaned back into the soft padding and closed her eyes with a weary sigh as Mr Anderson coughed politely to get everyone's attention.

As all eyes finally concentrated on him he smiled pleasantly, the shyness he had exhibited when first arriving at the schola slowly dwindling and not to a small degree thanks to the headmistress who pressed him into reading verses for the assembled audience in the schola's chapel.

"I know we all were a bit baffled, thinking the headmistress was crazy when she proclaimed to be from some sort of ancient Imperium ruled by a living god and called earth a "lost colony".",

Pausing for a moment he waited till each person in the room had nodded in turn, their emotions ranging from the eagerness of Mr. Grimlay to the passiveness of Mrs. Baker…while Mr. Durand's nose was between the pages of a fencing trainer Sister Marie had given him.

"Of course I thought it would just be the easiest to find out on which world they were born or had their orders head quarter and….",

He stopped for a moment, his face fighting for a moment to keep calm:

"I couldn't find any!",

It blurts out of him in frustration so vehemently that his fellow teachers look at him surprise, Mr Durand even looking up from his book as Tobias continued, his agitating slowly rising.

"And that is just not possible!

No one can evade registration completely and even if they were born on an independent colony like Cyrene: we are still sending our information about each birth to the Alliance whenever possible.

Even if….and it is only a slim chance: even if they have evaded registration at birth, they must be in some kind of organization the pure amount of books and literature they can not only recite but write down from memory alone…",

His voice quivered as he took a deep breath, as tried to stop himself from remembering the way all three of them could just sit at their wooden tables only fielding manual writing tools and start writing for hour after hours, the parchment filling with calligraphy and colourful pictures which ranged from the inspiring to the downright disgusting.

"…and…there is no mentioning of an Ecclesiarchy, Adeptus Sororitas, Imperium of Man if you don't look at some Terra Firma flyers and most importantly no God-Emperor who might be around in any modern society!

There's nothing about any of these names or institutions, not even a tiny hint of fiction or conspiracy rumours everyone seems to love so much!",

Throwing his arms up he shifted back in his chair and looked at the others.

Reluctantly Miss Maier raised her voice, after taking a look into the otherwise silent round:

"Aren't you taking this to serious? ",

She asked in a doubtful voice before quickly adding:

"I mean…isn't there another explanation…you are only searching in the totally normal Extra-net after all….I'm sure that the council has to know where they come from. It's bankrolling the whole school, so they would have to know were the headmistress is from….why would they give her anything otherwise?"

Mr Durand looked up for a moment from his book for some moments, giving a light nod as he looked at the young female teacher, not finding much fault with her logic.

"That might be true….",

Tobias said in consideration as he nodded slightly and closed his eyes:

"…but I asked my uncle about it.",

Opening his eyes once again he raised his hands in exasperation:

"He couldn`t find anything about them either.

And by the Throne: he`s a Councillor! "

With another audience the last outburst might have gathered some confused frowns, but nearly a year of exposure to the missionary and the nearly two hundred children and all the recent converts swelling their numbers even more, had left some traces in mannerism and speech, after all: where's the difference between using God or Emperor in your idioms?

"When I asked him he had only smiled lightly and promised to look into the matter, but when I phoned him a few weeks later he seemed as uncomfortable and puzzled by the whole thing as me right now. After I saw him like this he was evading my questions and he said that he would be meeting privately with the Asari Councillor, who`s the patron of the schola after all."

Taking a short breath he continued:

"It`s just….afterwards he didn`t want to talk about it again and made it quite clear to me that it was a matter which doesn`t concern me."

"So we are at a dead-end?",

Mr Grimlay finally chimed in, his fingertips drumming idly on the arms of his chair, as he thought about this for a moment and slowly said:

"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.",

He quoted in a solemn tone, his eyes calm and collected, hiding a small agitation beneath their silver grey iris.

"You can`t be serious! You don`t want to tell me that all the hogwash about their so called Imperium or God-Emperor is true. We can`t be some kind of colony: we have fossils which let us trace down our evolution over the time of millions of years.,

Mrs. Baker snapped irritated at her colleague as she crossed her arms unimpressed by this and glared at the chemistry teacher.

"It`s only one possibility.", Mr Grimlay said curtly, looking back unflinching.

"Uhhmm….it`s not that impossible…",

Jeanette said meekly from her seat, looking a bit emberassed as the attention of everyone centred back on her:

"I mean…there`s always the discussion about a: "missing link" and we simply lack enough evidences to silence the last doubting voices of it….and even then the evolution of the modern man is spotty….I mean we aren`t even sure if it`s one kind of human who came from Africa and spread all over our world…"

Her cheeks heated lightly as she felt Mrs Bakers disapproving glare on herself and she lowered her gaze, trying to evade an confrontation.

"Why do you bother with this anyway?", Mr Durand said softly as he closed his book and put it back into his bag.

"There`s no reason to fight about things like this….especially not so shortly before Christmas of all things.",

He said firmly and stood up, walking towards the coffee counter and pouring himself a cup, which he lead to his lips as he leaned against the wall:

"I mean….why should this concern us? I`m just doing my job right now, enjoying all the new things Sister Marie can teach me and the students when she visits in the lessons sometimes an right now I`m only looking forward to my Christmas holidays."

Simply shrugging he took his bag and walked towards the door, just as he wanted to open it someone pushed it open from the outside and nearly send the heavy steel plates it was made off into his face.

Looking up to him a bit sheepishly was Hailey Satterfield, smiling a bit.

This was enough to shock most of the gathered teachers to the core: When had one of these kids smiled in front of them or outside of their own little groups and ranks?

Their disbelief at this only grew as their eyes feel to the Progena`s waist, her ever present blue sash wasn't ending near the handle of her baton, which absence might have been even more unreal than the smile still on Hailey's face…and where this flowers at the side of her visor clad cap?

"Missionary Sophana is awaiting you in the chapel, she didn't have a chance yet to see you today and is expecting you in a few minutes. It might be the best if you simply followed me~",

She said such a bright and happy tone that clashed virtually with all prior experience the teachers had with her….which might explain why all five of them quickly jumped out of their seats and rushed to the door: after all you could never knew what makes this kid smile:

Maybe she would think of a batarian slave raid as amusing?

One or two teachers shook their head lightly at that thought as they followed Satterfield's quick steps through the dark passages which connected the complex of the classrooms with the central chapel.

Looking at his colleagues with a little smile, their discussion from a moment ago nearly forgotten in surprise, as he looked at Satterfield's empty belt:

"God formed humanity in his own image: if he has given us fists why shouldn't we use those against ugly four-eyes?",

He whispered lightly to his colleagues guessing correctly what they were thinking and one or two small nervous chuckles rewarded him as his own smile widened as they opened a door to the courtyard in front of the chapel itself.

From the corner of his eye Tobias saw something white and red robed wielding a long staff with a semblance of antique microphones on top of it and his smile died as she gave him an inquiring glance as her cool voice reached his ears:

"I don't remember teaching you a verse like this?"

With his smile being on the full retreat off from his face, he squared his shoulder and looks at her calmly:

"It was a moment of inspiration Sister, after all we can never be sure at which hour the colony might be attacked."

For a moment he thought a small smile might have shown on her cool features and if he really didn't just imagine it a moment before there was something strange going on.

The suspicion seemed to be holding some truth as the now lightly bigger group stepped through the door of the chapel: only to take an involuntary step back as a loud and ceremonial music suddenly assaulted their ears.

But it wasn't the music itself: it was the sheer volume of human voices which had joined in loud hymns: the worlds foreign but impressive at the same time, light stumbles showing that not all of the people who had gathered today even knew what they were sing or even: how they should sing it.

But that didn't matter, they hands were folded over their chest in the sign of the two headed eagle the missionary had introduced to them and as far as one could look the benches and aisles were full of people, at least three hundreds or more all in all, wearing not the orange and brown work suits colonists seemed to wear all day long but the best their wardrobes could offer: the evening dress typically only reserved to birthdays or marriages.

In the middle of the whole event was one person, who stood out of it,

In the middle of singing and activity stood one white robed person, her red hair cascading over her shoulders as she slowly lifted her arms as the hymn reached its peak.

"Man! You have seen the truth! Not any Truth, but the **IMPERIAL TRUTH!**",

She cried out as the last notes of the hymn fell silent and hundreds of eyes looked at her and the artfully grafted golden bird of prey on her chest, both heads reflecting the light of the candles in an archaic kind of festivity, catching everyone's eyes with the red lightly of its ruby, only far to similar to the bionic eye of its wearer.

"You have embraced His Vision with open hearths and minds!

You have closed both of them against the hideous influence of the faithless and xenos!

And you have gathered your wealth and poured it into a special gift:

Not one for Him! For He has only use for your actions,

but a gift for the whole parish!"

With quick steps she walked up the few steps leading up to the altar of the chapel and for the first time the teachers noticed the big….thing which stood behind it today: a great looming contour covered by a white fabric.

The missionary's steps lead her next to it and she grasped the fabric and pulled it off, a bright shine of gold dazzling all onlookers as the great window opposite of the altar and above the high portal opened for the first time in it's year of existence and let the light of a distant stare shine on the master of mans picture, on a moon which orbits a distant star, light years away from Holy Terra and his golden Throne:

"The Emperor is our **FATHER!**",

the missionary's voice shouted into the ears of all present as their eyes slowly opened, still pained from the sudden onrush of the golden reflection and their breaths stopped in awe and reference as their eyes settled on the larger than life sized statue of a man…no:

The statue of a God!

A hard face was looking into the distance, dark coloured eyes were following the edge of a flaming sword, its tip pointed upwards into the future.

Dark Hair was cascading over large pauldrons set in gold and bearing the two headed eagle of Prey and forming the winged clasps for the rich red coat hanging from his back.

It's enormous chest plate was covering a muscular chest and adorned by a variety of golden skulls and red rubies which was setting the motive for the equally armoured legs, the kneecaps being covered by one side of the eagle on each side, their eyes ever vigilant on those who looked at them.

It was too much; it wasn't just the artwork, the crafting put into the statue or it's opulent ornaments: the complete look of it was simply…superhumanly and for the first time the faithful of Cyrene were falling to their knees in devotion to the picture erected for His Glory!

"…and our **GUARDIAN!**"

But this wasn't the entire statue group, far by it:

In front of the Emperor were his finest warrior: clad in gold and white ivory, their weapons and armours shining in the light the Ecclesiarchy had brought to the humans of this world.

And while they were dwarfed by the Emperor one had to see that His statue stood at six times the height of a man, filling most of the chapels back with His presence while His bulwark against Terror stood at twice the size of the largest man on Cyrene their power armor and bolters crafted in detail under the steady correction of the two Sisters.

", but we must also guard the Emperor!",

Flavia Sophona cried out as she finished quoting the most pious reformer the Ecclesiarchy ever had, her hands pointing down at the base of the Statue group:

They were marching, boot next to boot, they weren't shining in gold but gleaming in steel, they eyes squared forward and the hands clutched around their lasguns as row after row of guardsmen endlessly marched forward, their bodies clad in the flak armour every human should have seen once in his life and their bayonets pointed forward.

Then before them came a cliff at the right side of the assemble and fleeing and falling from it's edge were the enemies of the Emperor: the weak who have pledged themselves to the ruinous powers: the malformed and the corrupted in their rags and wielding crude auto guns their faces wide in terror and anguish as they wailed silently.

From the forest of proud flags the guardsmen carried were running not only those but also the xeno's wicked and crude they were appearances of disgusting and animalistic appearance only from time to time would appear one that seemed familiar…having mandibles….bearing four eyes or crests on top of their heads all of them crafted to show the real wickedness of the leering and cowardly xeno.

With a smile on her face the missionary raised her hands to the assembled audience and a thundering: "Ave IMPERATOR!", erupted from hundred of throats even the teachers finding themselves joining it while their sweat started to stick to their skin they selves being dissolved in the euphoria the moment rose in each of them.

Non noticed the particular way the rows were set, no one saw how those closest to the statue group were sitting in special boxes on the aisles and no one noticed that many of them could be seen all around the colony on election posters:

Then sitting in the church were nearly all of those who lead Cyrenes Terra Firma movement.

But all eyes were on the women in white robes, all eyes were concentrated on her face as her lips moved lightly and a soft whisper run through the room:

"_**Merry Emperors Day"**_

* * *

><p>One year later, 2185 CE<p>

* * *

><p>Staff Lieutenant Fletcher reached up for his collar as the door of the small prayer room closed behind him, opening it lightly he took a deep breath before kneeling down on the thin mattress which covered the floor.<p>

Because the SSV Verdun was only a frigate and as such far to small to fit real quarters for each officers but by stroke of luck he was able to talk the captain into letting him use this small cabinet as a prayer room….it had it's perks to be widely seen as one of the "madman" from the 24th fighter Group.

Touching the interface he had attached to the wall in front of him a picture slowly started to build up in front of him, the holographic display connecting to his recipient and as it finally went through the buoys at the Relays he bowed down as a voice asked him.

"You should be proud and rejoice…",

As the so familiar sentence reached his ears he crossed his palms on his chest and looked up into the glowing bionic of Missionary Flavia Sophana, replying with deep faith:

"…for there is no greater glory than a lifetime of dutiful service and in the end every sacrifice will be living on in His memory…. Ave Imperator.",

He finished softly and saw the approving nod of the one person who had given him such a deep guidance in his life and he listened respectfully as she asked:

"You wrote me that you indeed to bring your ship to Cyrene?",

she said one eyebrow rising lightly at the idea.

"Yes honoured missionary… I would beg of you to…to…bless it in his name….I know that my comrades have not yet seen his light but… ",

his voice took one a tone of insecurity as he feared to have angered the missionary with his daring but he only got a light smile in return.

"Fear not, they are simply heathens and haven't heard his words yet, they are neither damned nor lost but only in need of guidance. It'll prepare an ritual of blessing in combat for your ship Thomas.",

The way she said his name made him blush quickly, not because of her looks: he had quickly grasped how far older she was than she really looked, but because of the approval it carried.

"Might you be victorious and bring destruction to His enemies.

The Emper-the Emp-pro-tt-ec-"

His blood ran cold as the calm voice was suddenly torn apart by static, the picture dying down and the voice garbling and desacralizing his most basic prayer as his fists clenched and his knuckles turned white.

He waited…a minute…an hour….his shipmates were pounding on the door as he slowly stood up: cold fire burning in his eyes:

She wouldn't break off right when invocating His name and no malfunction would either last so long or stop the missionary.

Something was amiss and he would be damned to the warp before he let His servants be stopped in their path.

As Thomas Fletcher, faithful of the God-Emperor, stormed out of the room, pushing his crewmates aside and against the passages walls his eyes were set on the route to the bridge and his mind was filled with one simply thought:

_**Through all our means we follow the Emperor's Command.**_


End file.
